CALLISTA: 


^  Glutei  cf  tl]«  Cljir^  C^iititrji 


BY 


VERY  REV.  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN,  D.  D., 

KECTOB  OF  THE   OATHOLIO  UNIVERSITY,   DUBLIN. 


Love  thy  God,  and  love  Him  only, 

And  thy  breast  will  ne'er  be  lonely. 

In  that  One  Great  Spirit  meet 

All  things  miffhty,  grave,  and  sweet. 

Vainly  strives  the  soul  to  mingle 

With  a  being  of  our  kind  ; 

Vainly  hearts  with  hearts  are  twined ; 

For  the  deepest  still  is  single. 

An  impalpable  resistance 

Holds  like  natures  still  at  distance. 

Mortal  !  love  that  Holy  One, 

Or  dwell  for  aye  alone.        De  Vere 


D.    &   J.    SADLIER    &    CO.,  161   WILLIAM    STREET. 

boston  :— 128  federal  street. 
Montreal: — coe.  notek  damk  &  franois  xavier  8T8. 

1856. 


ADVERTISEMENT, 


It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  following  Sketch 
is  a  simple  fiction  from  beginning  to  end.  It  has  very 
little  in  it  of  historical  truth,  even  indirectly  introduced, 
though  it  has  not  admitted  any  actual  interference 
with  known  facts  without  notice  of  it.  Nor  has  it 
any  pretensions  to  an  antiquarian  character.  Yet  it 
has  required  more  reading  than  may  appear  at  first 
sight. 

It  is  an  attempt  to  imagine  and  express  the  feelings 
and  mutual  relations  of  Christians  and  heathens  at 
the  period  to  which  it  belongs ;  and  it  has  been  under- 
taken as  the  nearest  approach  which  the  Author  could 
make  to  a  more  important  work  suggested  to  him 
from  a  high  ecclesiastical  quarter, 

September  13,  1855. 


P.S.  Since  the  Volume  has  been  in  print,  the  Author 
finds  that  his  name  has  got  abroad.  This  leads  him  to 
add,  that  he  wrote  great  part  of  Chapters  I.,  IV.,  and 
v.,  and  sketched  the  character  and  fortunes  of  Juba, 
in  the  early  spring  of  1848.     Having  got  as  far  as  this, 


IV  ADVEETISEMENT. 

he  stopped  from  sheer  inability  to  devise  personages 
or  incidents.  He  suddenly  resumed  the  thread  of  his 
story  shortly  after  St.  Mary  Magdalen's  day  last  year, 
and  has  been  successful  so  far  as  this,  that  he  has 
brought  it  to  an  end. 

"Without  being  able  to  lay  his  finger  upon  instances 
in  point,  he  has  some  misgivings,  lest  there  should  be 
any  want  of  exactness  in  his  minor  statements, 
■whether  of  opinion  or  fact,  \Yhich  carry  with  them 
authority  when  they  bear  the  name  of  a  writer. 

Edgbaston,  February  8,  1856. 


ERRATUM. 

Page  43,  lines  2  and  3,  for  Fabius  read  Fabian,  and  throughout 
the  volume. 


CALLISTA; 

A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY. 


CHAPTEE  L 


In  no  province  of  the  vast  Eoman  empire,  as  it  existed 
in  the  middle  of  the  third  century,  did  nature  wear  a 
richer  or  a  more  joyous ^garb  than  she  displayed  in 
Proconsular  Africa,  a  territory  of  which  Carthage  was 
the  metropolis,  and  Sicca  might  be  considered  the  cen- 
tre. The  latter  city,  which  was  the  seat  of  a  Eoman 
colony,  lay  upon  a  precipitous  or  steep  bank,  which 
led  up  along  a  chain  of  hills  to  a  mountainous  tract  in 
the  direction  of  the  north  and  east.  In  striking  con- 
trast with  this  wild  and  barren  region  was  the  view  pre- 
sented by  the  west  and  south,  where  for  many  miles 
stretched  a  smiling  champaign,  exuberantly  wooded, 
and  varied  with  a  thousand  hues,  till  it  was  terminated 
at  length  by  the  successive  tiers  of  the  Atlas,  and  the 
dim  and  fantastic  forms  of  the  Numidian  mountains. 
The  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  city  was  occu- 
pied by  gardens,  vineyards,  cornfields,  and  meadows, 
crossed  or  encircled  here  by  noble  avenues  of  trees 
or  the  remains  of  primeval  forests,  there  by  the  clus- 
tering groves  which  wealth  and  luxury  had  created. 
This  spacious  plain,  though  level  when  compared  with 
the  northern  heights  by  which  the  city  was  backed, 
and  the  peaks  and  crags  which  skirted  the  southern 

B 


2  CALLISTA ; 

and  western  horizon,  was  discovered,  as  light  and 
shadow  travelled  with  the  sun,  to  be  diversified  with 
hill  and  dale,  upland  and  hollow  ;  while  orange  gar- 
dens, orchards,  olive  and  palm  plantations  held  their  ap- 
propriate sites  on  the  slopes  or  the  bottoms.  Through 
the  mass  of  green,  which  extended  still  more  thickly 
from  the  west  round  to  the  north,  might  be  seen  at 
intervals  two  solid  causeways  tracking  their  persever- 
ing course  to  the  Mediterranean  coast,  the  one  to  the 
ancient  rival  of  Eome,  the  other  to  Hippo  Eegius  in 
Numidia,  Tourists  might  have  complained  of  the 
absence  of  water  from  the  scene ;  but  the  native  pea- 
sant would  have  explained  to  them  that  the  eye  alone 
had  reason  to  be  discontented,  and  that  the  thick 
foliage  and  the  uneven  surface  did  but  conceal  what 
mother  earth  with  no  niggard  bounty  supplied.  The 
Bagradas,  issuing  from  the  spurs  of  the  Atlas,  made 
up  in  depth  what  it  wanted  in  breadth  of  bed,  and 
ploughed  the  rich  and  yielding  mould  with  its  rapid 
stream,  till,  after  passing  Sicca  in  its  way,  it  fell  into 
the  sea  near  Carthage.  It  was  but  the  largest  of  a 
multitude  of  others,  most  of  them  tributaries  to  it, 
deepening  as  much  as  they  increased  it.  While  chan- 
nels had  been  cut  from  the  larger  rills  for  the  irriga- 
tion of  the  open  land,  brooks,  which  sprang  up  in  the 
gravel  which  lay  against  the  hills,  had  been  artificially 
banked  with  cut  stones  or  paved  with  pebbles ;  and, 
where  neither  springs  nor  rivulets  were  to  be  found, 
wells  had  been  dug,  sometimes  to  the  vast  depth  of  as 
much  as  200  fathoms,  with  such  effect  that  the  spurt- 
ing column  of  water  had  in  some  instances  drowned 
the  zealous  workmen  who  had  been  the  first  to  reach 
it.  And,  while  such  were  the  resources  of  less  favoured 
localities  or  seasons,  profuse  rains  descended  over  the 
whole  region  for  one  half  of  the  year,  and  the  thick 
summer  dews  compensated  by  night  for  the  daily 
tribute  extorted  by  an  African  sun. 

At  various  distances  over  the  undulating  surfiice, 
and  through  the  woods,  were  seen  the  villas  and  the 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.       3 

Bamlets  of  that  happy  land.  It  was  an  age  when  the 
pride  of  architecture  had  been  indulged  to  the  full ; 
edifices,  public  and  private,  mansions  and  temples,  ran 
off  far  away  from  each  market-town  or  borough,  as  from 
a  centre,  some  of  stone  or  marble,  but  most  of  them  of 
that  composite  of  fine  earth,  rammed  tight  by  means  of 
frames,  for  which  the  Saracens  were  afterwards  famous, 
and  of  which  specimens  remain  to  this  day,  as  hard 
in  surface,  as  sharp  at  the  angles,  as  when  they  first 
were  finished.  Every  here  and  there,  on  hill  or  crag, 
crowned  with  basilicas  and  temples,  radiant  in  the  sun, 
might  be  seen  the  cities  of  the  province  or  of  its  neigh- 
bourhood, Thibursicumbur,  Thugga,  Laribus,  Siguessa, 
Sufetula,  and  many  others  ;  while  in  the  far  distance, 
on  an  elevated  table-land  under  the  Atlas,  might  be 
discerned  the  Colonia  Scillitana,  famous  about  fifty 
years  before  the  date  of  which  we  write  for  the  mar- 
tyrdom of  Speratus  and  his  companions,  who  were 
beheaded  at  the  order  of  the  proconsul  for  refusing  to 
swear  by  the  genius  of  Eome  and  the  emperor. 

If  the  spectator  now  takes  his  stand,  not  in  Sicca 
itself,  but  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  south-east, 
on  the  hill  or  knoll  on  which  was  placed  the  cottage  of 
Agellius,  the  city  itself  will  enter  into  the  picture.  Its 
name.  Sicca  Yeneria,  if  it  be  derived  from  the  Succoth- 
benoth,  or  "  tents  of  the  daughters,"  mentioned  by  the 
inspired  writer  as  an  object  of  pagan  worship  in 
Samaria,  shows  that  it  owed  its  foundation  to  the 
Phcenician  colonists  of  the  country.  At  any  rate  the 
Punic  deities  retained  their  hold  upon  the  place ;  the 
temples  of  the  Tyrian  Hercules  and  of  Saturn,  the 
scene  of  annual  human  sacrifices,  were  conspicuous  in 
its  outline,  though  these  and  all  other  religious  build- 
ings in  it  looked  small  beside  the  mysterious  antique 
shrine  devoted  to  the  sensual  rites  of  the  Syrian 
A-starte.  Public  baths  and  a  theatre,  a  capitol,  imita- 
tive of  Home,  a  gymnasium,  tlie  long  outline  of  a  por- 
tico, an  equestrian  statue  in  brass  of  the  Emperor 
Severus,  were  grouped  together  above  the  streets  of 
B   2 


4  CALLISTA-, 

a  city,  wliicli,  narrow  and  winding,  ran  up  and  down 
across  the  hill.  In  its  centre  an  extraordinary  spring 
threw  up  incessantly  several  tons  of  water  every 
minute,  and  was  inclosed  by  the  superstitious  grati- 
tude of  the  inhabitants  with  the  peristylium  of  a  sacred 
place.  At  the  extreme  back,  towards  the  north,  which 
could  not  be  seen  from  the  point  of  view  where  we 
last  stationed  ourselves,  there  was  a  sheer  descent  of 
rock,  bestowing  on  the  city,  when  it  was  seen  at  a 
distance  on  the  Mediterranean  side,  the  same  bold  and 
striking  appearance  which  attaches  to  Castro  Gio- 
vanni, the  ancient  Enna,  in  the  heart  of  Sicily. 

And  now,  withdrawing  our  eyes  from  the  pano- 
rama, whether  in  its  distant  or  nearer  objects,  if  we 
would  at  length  contemplate  the  spot  itself  from  which 
we  have  been  last  surveying  it,  we  shall  find  almost  as 
much  to  repay  attention,  and  to  elicit  admiration. 
"We  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  farm  of  some  wealthy  pro- 
prietor, consisting  of  a  number  of  fields  and  gardens, 
separated  from  each  other  by  hedges  of  cactus  or  the 
aloe.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill,  which  sloped  down  on 
the  side  furthest  from  Sicca  to  one  of  the  tributaries  of 
the  rich  and  turbid  river  of  which  we  have  spoken,  a 
large  yard  or  garden,  intersected  with  a  hundred  arti- 
ficial rills,  was  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  odoriferous  Mennah.  A  thick  grove  of  palms 
seemed  to  triumph  in  the  refreshment  of  the  water's 
side,  and  lifted  up  their  thankful  boughs  towards  hea- 
ven. The  barley  harvest  in  the  fields  which  lay  higher 
up  the  hill  was  over,  or  at  least  was  finishing  ;  and  all 
that  remained  of  the  crop  was  the  incessant  and  im- 
portunate chirping  of  the  cicadce,  and  the  rude  booths 
of  reeds  and  bulrushes,  now  left  to  wither,  in  which 
the  peasant  boys  found  shelter  from  the  sun,  while  in 
an  earlier  month  they  frightened  from  the  grain  the 
myriads  of  linnets,  goldfinches,  and  other  small  birds 
who,  as  in  other  countries,  contested  with  the  human 
proprietor  the  possession  of  it.  On  the  south-western 
slope  lies  a  neat  and  carefully  dressed  vineyard,  the 


A    SKETCH    or   THE    THIRD    CENTTJET.  5 

vine-stakes  of  which,  dwarfish  as  they  are,  already  east 
long  shadows  on  the  eastern  side.  Slaves  are  scattered 
over  it,  testifying  to  the  scorching  power  of  the  sun 
by  their  broad  petasus,  and  to  its  oppressive  heat  by 
the  scanty  suhligarium  which  reached  from  the  belt  or 
girdle  to  the  knees.  They  are  engaged  in  cutting  off' 
useless  twigs  to  which  the  last  showers  of  spring  have 
given  birth,  and  are  twisting  those  which  promise  fruit 
into  positions  where  they  will  be  safe  both  from  the 
breeze  and  from  the  sun.  Every  thing  gives  token  of 
that  gracious  and  happy  season  which  the  great  Latin 
poets  have  hymned  in  their  beautiful  but  heathen 
strains ;  when,  after  the  heavy  rains,  and  raw  mists, 
and  piercing  winds,  and  fitful  sun-gleams  of  a  long  six 
months,  the  mighty  mother  manifests  herself  anew, 
and  pours  out  the  resources  of  her  innermost  being 
for  the  life  and  enjoyment  of  every  portion  of  the  vast 
whole  ; — or,  to  apply  the  lines  of  a  modern  bard, 

"  When  the  bare  earth,  till  now 
Desert  and  bare,  unsightly,  unadorned, 
Brings  forth  the  tender  grass,  whose  verdure  clads 
Her  universal  face  with  pleasant  green  ; 
Then  herbs  of  every  leaf,  that  sudden  flower, 
Opening  their  various  colours,  and  make  gay 
Her  bosom,  swelling  sweet ;  and,  these  scarce  blown, 
Forth  flourishes  the  clustering  vine,  forth  creeps 
The  swelling  gourd,  up  stands  the  corny  reed 
Embattled  in  her  fields,  and  the  humble  shrub, 
And  bush  with  frizzled  hair  implicit ;  last 
Rise,  as  in  dance,  the  stately  trees,  and  spread 
Their  branches  hung  with  copious  fruit,  or  gem 
Their  blossoms  ;  with  high  woods  the  hills  are  crowned ; 
With  tufts  the  valleys,  and  each  fountain  side ; 
With  borders  long  the  rivers ;  that  earth  now 
Seems  like  to  heaven,  a  seat  where  gods  might  dwell, 
Or  wander  with  delight,  and  love  to  haunt 
Her  sacred  shades." 

A  snatch  from  some  old  Greek  chant,  with  some- 
thing of  plaintiveness  in  the  tone,  issues  from  the 
thicket  just  across  the  mule-path,  cut  deep  in  the 
earth,  which  reaches  from  the  city  gate  to  the  stream- 
let;  and   a  youth,  who  had   the  appearance  of  the 


6  CALLISTA ; 

assistant  bailiff  or  procurator  of  tlie  farm  leaped  from 
it,  and  went  over  to  the  labourers,  ^Yho  were  busy 
■with  the  vines.  His  eyes  and  hair  and  the  cast  of  his 
features  spoke  of  Europe ;  his  manner  had  something 
of  shyness  and  reserve,  rather  than  of  rusticity ;  and 
he  wore  a  simple  red  tunic  with  half  sleeves,  descend- 
ing to  the  knee,  and  tightened  round  him  by  a  belt. 
His  legs  and  feet  were  protected  by  boots  w-hich  came 
half  up  his  calf.  He  addressed  one  of  the  slaves,  and 
his  voice  was  gentle  and  cheerful. 

"  Ah,  Sansar !"  he  cried,  "  I  don't  like  your  way  of 
managing  these  branches  so  well  as  my  own  ;  but  it  is 
a  difficult  thing  to  move  an  old  fellow  like  you.  You 
never  fasten  together  the  shoots  which  you  don't  cut  off; 
they  are  flying  about  quite  wild,  and  the  first  ox  that 
passes  through  the  field  next  month  for  the  ploughing 
will  break  them  off." 

He  spoke  in  Latin ;  the  man  understood  it,  and 
answered  him  in  the  same  language,  though  with  de- 
viations from  purity  of  accent  and  syntax,  not  without 
parallel  in  the  talkee-talkee  of  the  AYest  Indian  negro. 

"  Ay,  ay,  master,"  he  said,  "  ay,  ay ;  but  it's  all 
a  mistake  to  use  the  plough  at  all.  The  fork  does  the 
work  much  better,  and  no  fear  for  the  grape.  I  hide 
the  tendril  under  the  leaf  against  the  sun,  which  is 
the  only  enemy  we  have  to  consider." 

"Ah!  but  the  fork  does  not  raise  so  much  dust  as 
the  plough  and  the  heavy  cattle  which  draw  it,"  re- 
turned Agellius ;  "  and  the  said  dust  does  more  for 
the  protection  of  the  tendril  than  the  shade  of  the 
leaf." 

"  But  those  huge  beasts,"  relorted  the  slave,  "turn 
up  great  ridges,  and  destroy  the  yard." 

"  It's  no  good  arguing  with  an  old  vinedresser,  who 
had  formed  his  theory  before  I  was  born,"  said  Agel- 
lius good-humouredly  ;  and  he  passed  on  into  a  garden 
beyond. 

Here  were  other  indications  of  the  happy  month 
through   which   the   year  was   now  travelling.     The 


A  SKETCH  OP    THE  TKTRB  CENTURY.       7 

garden,  so  to  call  it,  was  a  space  of  several  acres  in 
extent ;  it  was  one  large  bed  of  roses,  and  preparation 
was  making  for  extracting  their  essence,  for  which 
various  parts  of  that  coantry  are  to  this  day  cele- 
brated. Here  was  another  set  of  labourers,  and  a 
man  of  middle  age  was  surveying  them  at  his  leisure. 
His  business-like,  severe,  and  off-hand  manner  be- 
spoke the  villicus  or  bailiff  himself. 

"  Always  here,"  said  he,  "as  if  you  were  a  slave, 
not  a  Eoman,  my  good  fellow ;  yet  slaves  have  their 
Saturnalia;  always  serving,  not  worshipping  the  all- 
bounteous  and  ail-blessed.  Why  are  yoa  not  taking 
holiday  in  the  town  ?" 

"  Why  should  I,  sir  ?"  asked  Agellius ;  "  don't  you 
recollect  old  Hienipsal's  saying  about  '  one  foot  in  the 
slipper,  and  one  in  the  shoe,'  Nothing  would  be 
done  well  if  I  were  a  town-goer.  You  engaged  me,  I 
suppose,  to  be  here,  not  there." 

"Ah!"  answered  he,  "but  at  this  season  the 
empire,  the  genius  of  Eome,  the  customs  of  the  coun- 
try, demand  it,  and  above  all  the  great  goddess  Astarte, 
and  her  genial,  jocund  month.  '  Parturit  almus  ager ;' 
you  know  the  verse;  do  not  be  out  of  tune  with 
nature,  nor  clash  and  jar  with  the  great  system  of  the 
universe." 

A  cloud  of  confusion,  or  of  distress,  passed  over 
Agelhus's  face.  He  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  speak  ; 
at  length  he  merely  said,  "  It's  a  fault  on  the  right 
side  in  a  servant,  I  suppose." 

"  I  know  the  way  of  your  people,"  Yitricus  replied, 
"  Corybantians,  Phrygians,  Jews,  what  do  you  call 
yourselves?  There  are  so  many  fantastic  religious 
now-a-days.  Hang  yourself  outright  at  your  house- 
door,  if  you  are  tired  of  living, — and  you  are  a  sensible 
fellow.  How^  can  any  man,  whose  head  sits  right  upon 
his  shoulders,  say  that  life  is  worth  having,  and  not 
worth  enjoying?" 

"  I  am  a  quiet  being,"  answered  Agellius,  "I  like 


8  CALLISTA ; 

the-countrj,  which  you  think  so  tame,  and  care  little 
for  tlie  flaimtiDg  town.     Tastes  differ." 

"  Town  !  you  need  not  go  to  Sicca,"  answered  the 
bailiff,  "  all  Sicca  is  out  of  town.  It  has  poured  into 
the  fields,  and  groves,  and  river  side.  Lift  up  your 
eyes,  man  alive,  open  your  ears,  and  let  pleasure  flow 
in.  Be  passive  under  the  sweet  breath  of  the  goddess, 
and  she  will  fill  you  with  ecstasy." 

It  was  as  Vitricus  had  said  ;  the  solemn  feast-days  of 
Astarte  were  in  course  of  celebration ;  of  Astarte,  the 
well-known  divinity  of  Carthage  and  its  dependent 
cities,  whom  Helio<Tabalus  had  lately  introduced  to 
Eome,  who  in  her  different  aspects  was  at  once  Urania, 
Juno,  and  Aphrodite,  according  as  she  embodied  the 
idea  of  the  philosopher,  tlie  statesman,  or  the  vulgar ; 
lofty  and  intellectual  as  TJrania,  majestic  and  com- 
manding as  Juno,  seductive  as  the  goddess  of  sen- 
suality and  excess. 

"  There  goes  the  son  of  as  good  and  frank  a  soldier 
as  ever  brandished  pilum,"  said  Vitricus  to  himself, 
"  till  in  his  last  years  some  infernal  god  took  umbrage 
at  him,  and  saddled  him  and  his  with  one  of  those  absurd 
superstitions  which  are  as  plentiful  here  as  serpents. 
He  indeed  was  too  old  himself  to  get  much  harm  from 
it;  but  it  shows  its  sour  nature  in  these  young  shoots. 
A  good  servant,  but  the  plague's  in  his  bones,  and  he 
will  rot." 

His  subordinate's  reflections  were  of  a  different 
character :  "  The  very  air  breathes  sin  to-day,"  he 
cried ;  "  O  that  I  did  not  find  the  taint  of  the  city  in 
these  works  of  God !  Alas !  sweet  nature,  the  child 
of  the  Almighty,  is  made  to  do  the  fiend's  Avork,  and 
does  it  better  than  the  town.  O  ye  beautiful  trees 
and  fair  flowers,  O  bright  sun  and  balmy  air,  what  a 
bondage  ye  are  in,  and  how  do  ye  groan  till  you  are 
redeemed  from  it  I  Ye  are  bond-slaves,  but  not  will- 
ingly, as  man  is ;  but  how  will  you  ever  be  turned  to 
nobler  purpose  ?  How  is  this  vast,  this  solid  establish- 


A  SKETCn  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.       9 

ment  of  error,  the  incubus  of  many  thousand  years, 
ever  to  have  an  end  ?  You  yourselves,  dear  ones,  will 
come  to  nought  first.  Any  how,  the  public  way  is  no 
place  for  me  this  evening.  They'll  soon  be  back  from 
their  accursed  revelry." 

A  sound  of  horns  and  voices  had  been  heard  from 
time  to  time  through  the  woods,  as  if  proceeding  from 
parties  dispersed  through  them ;  and  in  the  growing 
twilight  might  be  seen  lights',  glancing  and  wandering 
through  the  foliage.  The  cottage  in  which  Agellius 
dwelt  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  hollow  bridle-way 
which  crossed  the  hill.  To  make  for  home  he'  had 
first  to  walk  for  some  little  distance  along  it ;  and 
scarcely  had  he  descended  into  it  for  that  purpose, 
when  he  found  himself  in  the  front  of  a  band  of 
revellers,  who  were  returning  from  some  scene  of 
impious  festivity.  They  were  arrayed  in  holiday 
guise,  as  far  as  they  studied  dress  at  all ;  the  symbols 
of  idolatry  were  on  their  foreheads  and  arms ;  some  of 
them  were  intoxicated,  and  most  of  them  were  women. 

"  Why  have  you  not  been  worshipping,  young  fel- 
low ?"  said  one. 

"  Comely  built,"  said  another,  "but  struck  by  the 
furies.     I  know  the  cut  of  him." 

"  By  Astarte,"  said  a  third,  "  he's  one  of  those  sly 
Gnostics  !  I  have  seen  the  chap  before,  with  his  hang- 
dog look.  He's  one  of  Pluto's  whelps,  first  cousin  to 
Cerberus,  and  his  name's  Channibal." 

On  which  they  all  began  to  shout  out,  "  I  say, 
Channibal,  Channibal,  here's  a  lad  that  knows  you. 
Old  fellow,  come  along  with  us,"  and  the  speaker 
made  a  dash  at  him. 

On  this  Agellius,  who  was  slowly  making  his  way 
past  them  on  the  broken  and  steep  path,  leapt  up  in  two 
or  three  steps  to  the  ridge,  and  went  away  in  security  ; 
when  one  woman  cried  out,  "  0  the  toad,  I  know  him 
now ;  he  is  a  wizard ;  he  eats  little  children !  didn't 
you  see  him  make  that  sign  ?  it's  a  charm..  My  sister 
did  it ;  the  fool  left  me  to  bfc  one  of  them.     Sh^  was 


10  CALLISTA  ; 

ever  doing  so"  (mimicldng  tlie  sign  of  the  cross). 
"  He's  a  Christian,  blight  him !  he'll  turn  us  into 
beasts." 

"Cerberus  bite  him!"  said  another,  "he  sucks 
blood ;"  aud  taking  up  a  stone,  she  made  it  whiz  past 
his  ear  as  he  disappeared  from  view.  A  general 
scream  of  contempt  and  hatred  followed.  ""Where's 
the  ass's  head  ?  put  out  the  lights,  put  out  the  lights ! 
gibbet  him  :  that's  why  he  has  not  been  with  honest 
people  down  in  the  vale."  And  then  they  struck  up 
a  blasphemous  song,  the  sentiments  of  which  we  are 
nob  going  even  to  conceive,  much  less  to  attempt  in 
words. 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTUKY.      11 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  revellers  went  on  their  way;  Agellius  went  on 
his,  and  reached  his  lowly  and  lonely  cottage.  He  was 
the  elder  of  the  two  sons  of  a  Eoman  legionary,  of 
the  Secunda  Italica,  who  had  settled,  married,  and 
died  in  Sicca,  having  in  his  old  age  become  a  Christian. 
The  fortitude  of  some  confessors  at  Carthage  in  the 
persecution  of  Severus  had  been  the  initial  cause  of 
his  conversion.  He  had  been  posted  as  one  of  their 
guards,  and  had  attended  them  to  the  scene  of  their 
martyrdom,  in  addition  to  the  civil  force,  to  whom  in 
the  proconsulate  the  administration  of  the  law  was 
committed.  Therefore,  happily  for  him,  it  could  not 
fall  to  his  duty  to  be  their  executioner ;  a  function 
which,  however  revolting  to  his  feelings,  he  might  not 
have  had  courage  to  decline.  He  remained  a  pagan, 
though  he  could  not  shake  off  the  impression  which 
the  martyrs  had  made  npon  him  ;  and,  after  completing 
his  time  of  service,  he  retired  to  the  protection  of  some 
great  friends  in  Sicca,  where  his  brother  already  lived. 
Here  he  took  a  wife  of  the  old  Numidian  stock,  and 
supported  himself  by  the  produce  of  a  small  piece  of 
land  which  had  been  given  him  for  life  by  the  imperial 
government.  If  trial  were  necessary  in  order  to 
keep  alive  the  good  seed  which  had  been  sown  in  his 
heart,  he  found  a  never- failing  supply  of  that  article 
in  the  companion  of  his  declining  years.     In  the  hey- 


12  CALLISTA ; 

day  of  her  youtli  slie  might  have  heen  fitted  to  throw 
a  sort  of  sunshine,  or  rather  torch-light,  on  a  mihtary 
carouse ;  but  now,  when  poor  Straho,  a  man  well  to  do 
in  the  world,  looking  for  peace,  had  fallen  under  her 
arts,  he  found  he  had  surrendered  his  freedom  to  a 
malignant,  profligate  woman,  whose  passions  made  her 
better  company  for  evil  spirits  than  for  an  invalided 
soldier.  Indeed,  as  time  went  on,  the  popular  belief, 
which  she  rather  encouraged,  went  to  the  extent  that 
she  actually  did  hold  an  intercourse  with  the  unseen 
world  ;  and  certainly  she  matured  in  a  hatred  towards 
God  and  man,  which  would  naturally  follow,  and  not 
unnaturally  betoken,  such  intercourse.  The  more,  then, 
she  inflicted  on  him  her  proficiency  in  these  amiable 
characteristics,  the  more  he  looked  out  for  some  con- 
solation elsewhere ;  and  the  more  she  involved  herself 
in  the  guilt  or  the  repute  of  unlawful  arts,  the  more 
was  he  drawn  to  that  religion,  where  alone  to  com- 
mune with  the  invisible  is  to  hold  intercourse  with 
heaven,  not  with  hell.  Whether  so  great  a  trial 
supplied  a  more  human  inducement  for  looking  to- 
wards Christianity,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  Most  men, 
certainly  Homan  soldiers,  may  be  considered  to  act  on 
mixed  motives  ;  but  so  it  was  in  fact,  that,  on  his  be- 
coming in  his  last  years  a  Christian,  he  found,  perhaps 
discovered,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  that  the  Church 
did  not  oblige  him  to  continue  or  renew  a  tie  which 
bound  him  to  so  much  misery,  and  that  he  might  end 
his  days  in  a  tranquillity  which  his  past  life  required, 
and  his  wife's  presence  would  have  precluded.  He 
made  a  good  end  ;  he  had  been  allowed  to  take  the 
blessed  sacrament  from  the  altar  to  his  own  home  on 
the  last  time  he  had  been  able  to  attend  a  sjjnaxis 
of  the  faithful,  and  thus  had  communicated  at  least 
six  months  within  his  decease ;  and  the  priest  who 
anointed  him  at  the  beginning  of  his  last  illness  also 
took  his  confession.  He  died,  begging  forgiveness  of 
all  whom  he  had  injured,  and  giving  large  alms  to  the 
poor.     This  was  about  the  year  236,  in  the  midst  of 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      13 

that  long  peace  of  the  Church  which  was  broken  at 
length  by  the  Decian  persecution. 

This  peace  of  well-nigh  fifty  years  had  necessarily 
a  peculiar,  and  not  a  happy  effect  upon  the  Christians 
of  the  proconsulate.  They  multiplied  in  the  greater 
and  the  maritime  cities,  and  made  their  way  into  po- 
sitions of  importance,  whether  in  trade  or  the  govern- 
mental departments ;  they  extended  their  family  con- 
nexions, and  were  on  good  terms  with  the  heathen. 
Whatever  jealousy  might  be  still  cherished  against  the 
Clu'istian  name,  nevertheless  individual  Christians 
were  treated  with  civility,  and  recognized  as  citizens  ; 
though  among  the  populace  there  would  be  occasions, 
at  the  time  of  the  more  solemn  pagan  feasts,  when 
accidental  outbursts  might  be  expected  of  the  an- 
tipathy latent  in  the  community,  as  we  have  been 
recording  in  the  foregoing  chapter.  Men  of  sense, 
however,  began  to  understand  them  better,  and  to  be 
more  just  to  the  reasonableness  of  their  faith.  This 
would  lead  them  to  scorn  Christianity  less,  but  it 
would  lead  them  to  fear  it  more.  It  was  no  longer  a 
matter  merely  for  the  populace  to  insult,  but  for  a 
government  deliberately  to  put  down.  The  prevailing 
and  still  growing  unbelief  among  the  lower  classes  of 
the  population  did  but  make  a  religion  more  formid- 
able, which,  as  heathen  statesmen  felt,  was  able  to 
wield  the  weapons  of  enthusiasm  and  zeal  with  a  force 
and  success  unknown  even  to  the  most  fortunate  im- 
postors among  the  Oriental  or  Egyptian  hierophants. 
The  philosophical  schools  were  impressed  with  similar 
apprehensions,  and  had  now  for  fifty  years  been  em- 
ployed in  creating  and  systematizing  a  new  intellectual 
basis  for  the  received  paganism. 

But,  while  the  signs  of  the  times  led  to  the  antici- 
pation that  a  struggle  was  impending  between  the 
heads  of  the  state  religion  and  of  the  new  worship 
which  was  taking  its  place,  the  great  body  of  Chris- 
tians, laymen  and  ecclesiastics,  were  on  better  and 
better  terms,  individually,  with  the  members  of  society, 


14  CALLISTA; 

or  what  is  now  called  the  public ;  and,  without  losing 
their  f\iith,  or  those  embers  of  charity  which  favour- 
able circumstances  would  promptly  rekindle,  were,  it 
must  be  confessed,  in  a  state  of  considerable  relaxation ; 
they  often  were  on  the  brink  of  deplorable  sins,  and 
sometimes  fell  over  the  brink.  And  many  would  join 
the  Church  on  inferior  motives  as  soon  as  no  great 
temporal  disadvantage  attached  to  the  act,  or  the 
families  of  Christian  parents  might  grow  up  with  so 
little  of  moral  and  religious  education  as  to  make  it 
difficult  to  say  why  they  called  themselves  members  of 
a  divine  religion.  Mixed  marriages  would  increase 
both  the  scandal  and  the  confusion. 

"A  long  repose,"  says  St.  Cyprian,  speaking  (  f  tliis 
very  period,  "  had  corrupted  the  discipline  whicli  liad 
come  down  to  us.  Every  one  was  applying  himself 
to  the  increase  of  wealth ;  and,  forgetting  both  the 
conduct  of  the  faithful  nnder  the  Apostles,  and  Avhat 
ought  to  be  their  conduct  in  every  age,  with  insatiable 
eagerness  for  gain  devoted  himself  to  the  multiplying 
of  possessions.  Tlie  priests  were  wanting  in  religious 
devotedness,  the  ministers  in  entireuessof  faith  ;  there 
was  no  mercy  in  works,  no  discipline  in  manners. 
]\ren  wore  their  beards  disfigured,  and  women  dyed 
their  faces.  Their  eyes  were  changed  from  what  God 
made  them,  and  a  lying  colour  was  passed  upon  the 
hair.  The  hearts  of  the  simple  were  misled  by  treache- 
rous artifices,  and  brethren  became  entangled  in  se- 
ductive snares.  Ties  of  marriage  were  formed  with 
unbelievers ;  members  of  Christ  abandoned  to  the 
heathen.  Not  only  rash  swearing  was  heard,  but  even 
false ;  persons  in  high  place  were  swollen  with  con- 
temptuousness  ;  poisoned  reproaches  fell  from  theii 
mouths,  and  men  were  sundered  by  unabating quarrels. 
Numerous  bishops,  who  ought  to  be  an  encourage- 
ment and  example  to  others,  despising  their  sacred 
calling,  engaged  themselves  in  secular  vocations,  re- 
linquished their  sees,  deserted  their  people,  strayed 
among  foreign    provinces,   hunted    the   markets   for 


A.  SKFTCH   OF   THE    THIRD    CENTUET.  15 

mercantile  profits,  and  tried  to  amass  large  sums  of 
money,  while  Lhej  Lad  brethren  starving  within  the 
Church ;  took  possession  of  estates  by  fraudulent 
proceedings,  and  multiplied  their  gains  by  accumulated 
usuries  \''' 

The  relaxation  which  would  extend  the  profession 
of  Christianity  in  the  larger  cities  would  contract  or 
extinguish  it  in  remote  or  country  places.  There 
would  be  little  zeal  to  keep  up  Churches,  which  could 
not  be  served  without  an  effort  or  without  secular  loss. 
Carthage,  Utica,  Hippo,  Milevis,  or  Curubis,  was  a 
more  attractive  residence  than  the  towns  of  uucouth 
African  names,  which  amaze  the  ecclesiastical  student 
in  the  acts  of  the  councils.  Vocations  became  scarce  ; 
sees  remained  vacant ;  congregations  died  out.  This 
was  pretty  much  the  case  with  the  Churcli  and  see  of 
Sicca.  At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  history  pre- 
serves no  record  of  any  bishop  as  exercising  his  pas- 
toral functions  in  that  city.  In  matter  of  fact  there 
was  none.  The  last  bishop,  an  amiable  old  man,  had 
in  the  course  of  years  acquired  a  considerable  extent 
of  arable  land,  and  employed  himself  principally,  for 
lack  of  more  spiritual  occupation,  in  reaping,  stacking, 
selling,  and  sending  off  his  wheat  for  the  Eoman 
market.  His  deacon  had  been  celebrated  in  early 
youth  for  his  boldness  in  the  chase,  and  took  part  in 
the  capture  of  lions  and  panthers  (an  act  of  charity 
towards  the  peasants  round  Sicca)  for  the  Koman 
amphitheatre.  Ko  priests  were  to  be  found,  and  the 
bishop  became  ^^aroclins  till  his  death.  Afterwards 
infimts  and  catechumens  lost  baptism  ;  parents  lost 
faith,  or  at  least  love ;  wanderers  lost  repentance  and 
conversion.  Eor  a  time  there  was  a  flourishing  meet- 
ing-house of  TertuUianists,  who  had  scared  more  hum- 
ble minds  by  pronouncing  the  eternal  perdition  of  every 
Catholic ;  there  had  also  been  various  descriptions  of 
Gnostics,  who  had  carried  off  the  clever  youths  and 

'  Vid.  Oxford  trans,  of  St.  Cyprian, 


CALLISTA  ; 

restless  speculators ;  and  there  had  been  the  lapse  of 
time,  gradually  consuming  the  generation  which  had 
survived  the  flourishing  old  times  of  the  African 
Church.  And  the  result  was,  that  in  the  year  250  it 
was  difficult  to  say  of  whom  the  Church  of  Sicca  con- 
sisted. There  was  no  bishop,  no  priest,  no  deacon. 
There  was  the  old  mansionarius  or  sacristan :  there 
were  two  or  three  pious  women,  married  or  single, 
who  owed  their  religion  to  good  mothers ;  there  were 
some  slaves  who  kept  to  their  faith,  no  one  knew  how 
or  why  ;  there  were  a  vast  many  persons  who  ought 
to  be  Catholics,  but  were  heretics,  or  nothing  at  all, 
or  all  but  pagans,  and  sure  to  become  pagans  on  the 
asking ;  there  were  A  gellius  and  his  brother  Juba,  and 
how  far  these  two  had  a  claim  to  the  Christian  name 
we  now  proceed  to  explain. 

They  were  about  the  ages  of  seven  and  eight  when 
their  father  died,  and  they  fell  under  the  guardianship 
of  their  uncle,  whose  residence  at  Sicca  had  been  one 
of  the  reasons  which  determined  Strabo  to  settle  there. 
This  man,  being  possessed  of  some  capital,  drove  a 
thriving  trade  in  idols,  large  and  small,  amulets,  and 
the  like  instruments  of  the  established  superstition. 
His  father  had  come  to  Carthage  in  the  service  of  one 
of  the  assessors  of  the  proconsul  of  the  day ;  and  his 
son,  finding  competition  ran  too  high  to  give  him 
prospect  of  remuneration  in  the  metropolis,  had  opened 
his  statue-shop  in  Sicca.  Those  modern  arts  which 
enable  an  English  town  in  this  day  to  be  so  fertile  in 
the  production  of  ware  of  this  description  for  the 
markets  of  the  pagan  East,  were  then  unknown ;  and 
Jucundus  depended  on  certain  artists  whom  he  im- 
ported, especially  on  two  G-reeks,  brother  and  sister, 
who  came  from  some  isle  on  the  Asian  coast,  for  the  sup- 
ply of  his  trade.  He  was  a  good-natured  man,  self-in- 
dulgent, positive,  and  warmly  attached  to  the  reigning 
paganism,  both  as  being  the  law  of  the  land  and  the 
vital  principle  of  the  state  ;  and,  while  he  was  really 
kind  to  his  orphan  nephews,  he  simply  abominated,  aa 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      17 

in  duty  bound,  the  idiotic  cant  and  impudent  fee-fa- 
fum,  to  which,  in  his  infallible  judgment,  poor  old 
Strabo  had  betrayed  his  children.  He  would  have 
restored  them,  you  may  be  quite  sure,  to  their  country 
and  their  country's  gods,  had  they  acquiesced  in  the 
restoration ;  but  in  different  ways  these  little  chaps, 
and  he  shook  his  head  as  he  said  it,  were  difficult  to 
deal  with.  Agellius  had  a  very  positive  opinion  of  his 
own  on  the  matter ;  and  as  for  Juba,  though  he  had 
no  opinion  at  all,  yet  he  had  an  equally  positive  aver- 
sion to  have  any  opinion  at  all,  even  in  favour  of 
paganism,  thrust  on  him  by  another.  He  had  re- 
mained in  his  catechumen  state  since  he  grew  up, 
because  he  found  himself  in  it ;  and  though  nothing 
would  make  him  go  forward  in  his  profession  of  Chris- 
tianity, no  earthly  power  would  be  able  to  make  him 
go  back.  So  there  he  was,  like  a  mule,  stuck  fast  in 
the  door  of  the  Church,  and  feeling  a  gratification  in 
his  independence  of  mind.  However,  whatever  his 
profession  might  be,  still,  as  time  went  on,  he  plainly 
took  after  his  mother ;  renewed  his  intercourse  with 
her  after  his  father's  death,  and  at  length  went  so  far 
as  to  avow  that  he  believed  in  nothing  but  the  devil, 
if  even  he  believed  in  him.  It  was  scarcely  safe,  how- 
ever, to  affirm  that  the  senses  of  this  hopeful  lad  were 
his  own. 

Agellius,  on  the  other  hand,  when  a  boy  of  six  years 
old,  had  insisted  on  receiving  baptism  ;  had  perplexed 
his  father  by  a  manifestation  of  zeal  to  which  the  old 
man  was  a  stranger,  and  had  made  the  good  bishop 
lose  the  corn-fleet  which  was  starting  for  Italy  from 
his  importunity  to  learn  the  catechism.  Baptized  he 
was,  confirmed,  communicated ;  but  a  boy's  nature  is 
variable,  and  by  the  time  Agellius  had  reached  ado- 
lescence, the  gracious  impulses  of  his  childhood  had  in 
some  measure  faded  away,  though  he  still  retained  his 
faith  in  its  first  keenness  and  vigour.  But  he  had  no 
one  to  keep  him  up  to  his  duty  ;  no  exhortations,  no 
example,  no  sympathy.     His  father's  friends  had  taken 

c 


18  CALLISTA  ; 

him  up  so  far  as  this,  that  by  an  extraordinary  favour 
they  had  got  him  a  lease  for  some  years  of  the  pro- 
perty which  Strabo,  a  veteran  soldier,  had  rented  of 
the  imperial  government.  The  care  of  this  small 
property  fell  upon  him,  and  another  and  more  serious 
charge  was  added  to  it.  The  long  prosperity  of  the 
province  had  increased  the  opulence  and  enlarged  the 
upper  class  of  Sicca.  Officials,  contractors,  and  ser- 
vants of  the  government  had  made  fortunes,  and 
raised  villas  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  city.  Natives 
of  the  place,  returning  from  Eome  or  from  provincial 
service  elsewhere,  had  invested  their  gains  in  long 
leases  of  state  lands,  or  of  the  farms  belonging  to  the 
imperial  res  privata  or  privy  purse,  and  had  become 
virtual  proprietors  of  the  rich  fields  or  beautiful 
gardens  in  which  they  had  played  as  children.  One  of 
such  persons,  who  had  had  a  place  in  the  qfficium  of  the 
quaestor,  or  rather  procurator,  as  he  began  to  be 
called,  was  the  employer  of  Agellius.  His  property 
adjoined  the  cottage  of  the  latter;  and,  having, first 
employed  the  youth  from  recollection  of  his  father, 
he  confided  to  him  the  place  of  under-bailiff"  from  the 
talents  he  showed  for  farm  business. 

Such  was  his  position  at  the  early  age  of  twenty- 
two  ;  and  honourable  as  it  was  in  itself,  and  from  the 
mode  in  which  it  was  obtained,  no  one  would  consider 
it  adapted,  under  the  circumstances,  to  counteract  the 
religious  languor  and  coldness  which  had  grown  upon 
him.  And  in  truth  he  did  not  know  where  he  stood, 
further  than  that  he  was  firm  in  faith,  as  we  have  said, 
and  had  shrunk,  from  a  boy  upwards,  from  the  vice 
and  immorality  which  was  the  very  atmosphere  of 
Sicca.  He  might  any  day  be  betrayed  into  some  fatal 
inconsistency,  which  would  either  lead  him  into  sin,  or 
oblige  him  abruptly  to  retrace  his  steps,  and  find  a 
truer  and  safer  position.  He  was  not  generally 
known  to  be  a  Christian,  at  least  for  certain,  though 
he  was  seen  to  keep  clear  of  the  established  religion. 
It  was  not  that  he  hid,  so  much  as  that  the  world  did 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      19 

not  care  to  know,  what  he  believed.  In  that  day  there 
were  many  rites  and  worships  which  kept  to  them- 
selves ;  many  forms  of  moroseness  or  misanthropy,  as 
they  were  considered,  which  withdrew  their  votaries 
from  the  public  ceremonial.  .The  Catholic  faith 
seemed  to  the  multitude  to  be  one  of  these ;  it  was 
only  in  critical  times,  when  some  idolatrous  act  was 
insisted  on  by  the  magistrate,  that  the  specific  nature 
of  Christianity  was  tested  and  detected.  Then  at 
length  it  was  seen  to  differ  from  all  other  religious 
varieties  by  that  irrational  and  disgusting  obstinacy, 
as  it  was  felt  to  be,  which  had  rather  suffer  torments 
and  lose  life  than  submit  to  some  graceful,  or  touching, 
or  at  least  trifling  observance  which  the  tradition  of 
ages  had  sanctioned. 


20  callista; 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  cottage  for  wliich  Agellius  was  making,  when  last, 
we  had  sight  of  him,  was  a  small  brick  house,  consisting 
of  one  room,  with  a  loft  over  it,  and  a  kitchen  on  the 
side,  not  very  unlike  that  holy  habitation  which  once 
contained  the  Eternal  Word  in  human  form  with  his 
Virgin  Mother,  and  Joseph,  their  guardian.  It  was 
situated  on  the  declivity  of  the  hill,  and,  unlike  the 
gardens  of  Italy,  the  space  before  it  was  ornamented 
with  a  plot  of  turf.  A  noble  palm  on  one  side,  in 
spite  of  its  distance  from  the  water,  and  a  group  of 
orange-trees  on  the  other,  formed  a  foreground  to  the 
rich  landscape  which  was  described  in  our  opening 
chapter.  The  borders  and  beds  were  gay  with  the 
lily,  the  bacchar,  amber-coloured  and  purple,  the  golden 
abrotomus,  the  red  chelidonium,  and  the  variegated 
iris.  Against  the  wall  of  the  house  were  trained 
pomegranates,  with  their  crimson  blossoms,  the  star- 
like pothos  or  jessamine,  and  the  symbolical  passion- 
flower, which  well  became  a  Clmstian  dwelling. 

It  was  an  intimation  of  what  would  be  found 
within ;  for  on  the  side  of  the  room  was  rudely  painted 
a  red  cross,  with  doves  about  it,  as  is  found  in  early 
Christian  shrines  to  this  day.  So  long  had  been  the 
peace  of  the  Churcli,  that  the  tradition  of  persecution 
seemed  to  have  been  lost ;  and  Christians  allowed  tliem- 
selves  in  the  profession  of  their  faith  at  home,  cautious 
as  they  might  be  in  public  places ;  as  freely  as  now  io 


A.   SKETCH    OP   THE    THIRD    CENTITEY.  21 

England,  where  we  do  not  scruple  to  raise  crucifixeg 
within  our  churches  and  houses,  though  we  shrink  from 
doing  so  within  sight  of  the  hundred  cabs  and  omni- 
buses which  rattle  past  them.  Under  the  cross  were 
two  or  three  pictures,  or  rather  sketches.  lu  the 
centre  stood  the  Blessed  Virgin  with  hands  spread 
out  in  prayer,  attended  by  the  holy  Apostles  Peter 
and  Paul  on  her  right  and  left.  Under  this  repre- 
sentation were  rudely  scratched  upon  the  walls  the 
words,  "  Advocata  nostra,"  a  title  which  the  earliest 
antiquity  bestows  upon  her.  On  a  small  shelf  was 
placed  a  case  with  two  or  three  rolls  or  sheets  of 
parchment  in  it.  The  appearance  of  them  spoke  of 
use  indeed,  but  of  reverential  treatment.  These  were 
the  Psalms,  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Luke,  and  St. 
Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  in  the  old  Latin  version. 
The  Gospel  was  handsomely  covered,  and  ornamented 
with  gold. 

The  apartment  was  otherwise  furnished  with  such 
implements  and  materials  as  might  be  expected  in  the 
cottage  of  a  countryman :  one  or  two  stools  and 
benches  for  sitting,  a  table,  and  in  one  corner  a  heap 
of  dried  leaves  and  rushes,  with  a  large  crimson 
coverlet,  for  rest  at  night.  Elsewhere  were  two  mill- 
stones fixed  in  a  frame,  with  a  handle  attached  to  the 
rim  of  one  of  them,  for  grinding  corn.  Then  again, 
garden  tools  ;  boxes  of  seeds  ;  a  vessel  containing  syrup 
for  assuaging  the  sting  of  the  scorpion ;  the  asir-rese 
or  anagallis,  a  potent  medicine  of  the  class  of  poisons, 
which  was  taken  in  wine  for  the  same  mischance.  It 
hung  from  the  beams,  with  a  large  bunch  of  atsir- 
tlpliua,  a  sort  of  camomile,  smaller  in  the  flower  and 
more  fragrant  than  our  own,  which  was  used  as  a 
febrifuge.  Thence,  too,  hung  a  plentiful  gathering  of 
dried  grapes,  of  the  kind  called  duracincd ;  and  near 
the  door  a  bough  of  the  green  hargut  or  psi/llium,  to 
drive  away  the  smaller  insects. 

Poor  Agellius  felt  the  contrast  between  the  un- 
godly turmoil  from  which  he  had  escaped,  and  the 


22  CALLISTA ; 

deep  stillness  into  which  he  now  had  entered ;  but 
neither  satisfied  him  quite.  There  was  no  repose  out 
of  doors,  and  no  relief  within.  He  was  lonely  at 
home,  lonely  in  the  crowd.  He  needed  the  sympathy 
of  his  kind;  hearts  which  might  beat  with  his  heart; 
friends  with  Avhom  he  might  share  his  joys  and  griefs ; 
advisers  whom  he  might  consult ;  minds  like  his  own, 
who  would  understand  him, — minds  unlike  his  own, 
who  would  succour  and  respond  to  him.  A  very  great 
trial  certainly  this,  in  which  the  soul  is  flung  back 
upon  itself;  and  that  especially  in  the  case  of  the 
young,  for  whom  memory  and  experience  do  so  little, 
and  wayward  and  excited  feelings  do  so  much.  Great 
gain  had  it  been  for  Agellius,  even  in  its  natural 
effect,  putting  aside  higher  benefits,  to  have  been  able 
to  recur  to  sacramental  confession  ;  but  to  confession 
he  had  never  been,  though  once  or  twice  he  had 
attended  the  public  Jwynologesis  of  the  Church.  Shall 
we  wonder  that  the  poor  youth  began  to  be  despond- 
ent and  impatient  under  his  trial?  Shall  we  not  feel 
for  him,  though  we  may  be  sorry  for  him,  should  it 
turn  out  that  he  was  looking  restlessly  into  every 
corner  of  the  small  world  of  acquaintance  in  which  his 
lot  lay  for  those  with  whom  he  could  converse  easily, 
and  interchange  speculation,  argument,  aspiration,  and 
affection  ? 

"No  one  cares  for  me,"  he  said,  as  he  sat  down  on 
his  rustic  bench.  "  I  am  nothing  to  any  one ;  I  am  a 
hermit,  like  Elias  or  John,  without  the  call  to  be  one. 
Yet  even  Elias  felt  the  burden  of  being  one  against 
many ;  even  John  asked  at  length  in  expostulation, 
'Art  Thou  He  that  shall  come?'  Am  I  for  ever  to 
have  the  knowledge,  without  the  consolation,  of  the 
truth  ?  am  I  for  ever  to  belong  to  a  great  divine 
society,  yet  never  see  the  face  of  any  of  its  mem- 
bers ?" 

He  paused  in  his  thoughts,  as  if  drinking  in  the  full 
taste  and  measure  of  his  unhappiness.  And  then  his 
reflections  took  a  turn,  and  he  said  suddenly,  "  Why 


A    SKETCH    OP   THE    THIRD    CETfTUHT.  23 

do  I  not  leave  Sicca  ?  What  binds  me  to  my  father's 
farm  ?  I  am  young,  and  my  interest  in  it  will  soon 
expire.  What  keeps  me  from  Carthage,  Hippo,  Cir- 
tha,  where  Ciiristians  are  so  many?"  But  here  he 
stopped  as  suddenly  as  he  had  begun ;  and  a  strange 
feeling,  half  pang,  half  thrill,  \Yent  through  his  heart. 
And  he  felt  unwilling  to  pursue  his  thought,  or  to 
answer  the  question  which  he  had  asked ;  and  he  set- 
tled into  a  dull,  stagnant  condition  of  mind,  in  which 
he  seemed  hardly  to  think  at  all. 

Be  of  good  cheer,  solitary  one,  though  thou  art  not 
a  hero  yet !  There  is  One  that  cares  for  thee,  and 
loves  thee,  more  than  thou  canst  feel,  love,  or  care  for 
thyself.  Cast  all  thy  carj  upon  Him.  He  sees  thee, 
and  is  watching  thee ;  He  is  hanging  over  thee,  and 
smiles  in  compassion  at  thy  troubles.  His  angel,  who 
is  thine,  is  whispering  good  thoughts  to  thee.  He 
knows  thy  weakness ;  He  foresees  thy  errors  ;  but  He 
holds  thee  by  thy  right  hand,  and  thou  shalt  not, 
canst  not  escape  Him.  By  thy  faith,  which  thou  hast 
so  simply,  resolutely  retained  in  the  midst  of  idolatry ; 
by  thy  purity,  which,  like  some  fair  flower,  thou  hast 
cherished  in  the  midst  of  pollution,  He  will  remember 
thee  in  thy  evil  hour,  and  thine  enemy  shall  not  pre- 
vail against  thee !       / 

AVhat  means  that  smile  upon  Agellius's  face  ?  It 
is  the  response  of  the  child  to  the  loving  parent.  He 
knows  not  why,  but  the  cloud  i^  past.  He  signs 
himself  with  the  holy  cross,  and  sweet  reviving  thoughts 
enliven  him.  He  names  the  sacred  Name,  and  it  is  like 
ointment  poured  out  upon  his  soul.  He  rises ;  he 
kneels  down  under  the  dread  symbol  of  his  salvation  ; 
and  he  begins  his  evening  prayer. 


24  callista; 


CHAPTER  IV. 

There  was  more  of  heart,  less  of  effort,  less  of  me- 
chanical habit  in  Agcllius's  prayers  that  night,  than 
there  had  been  for  a  long  while  before.  He  got  up, 
struck  a  light,  and  communicated  it  to  his  small 
earthen  lamp.  Its  pale  rays  feebly  searched  the 
room,  and  discovered  at  the  other  end  of  it  Juba,  who 
had  silently  opened  the  door,  and  sat  down  near  it, 
while  his  brother  was  employed  upon  his  devotions. 
The  countenance  of  the  latter  fell,  for  he  was  not  to 
go  to  sleep  with  the  resignation  and  peace  which  had 
just  before  been  poured  into  his  breast.  Yet  why 
should  he  complain  ?  we  receive  consolation  in  this 
world  for  the  very  purpose  of  preparing  us  against 
trouble  to  come.  Juba  was  a  tall,  swarthy,  wild- 
looking  youth.  He  was  holding  his  head  on  one  side 
as  he  sat,  and  his  face  towards  the  roof;  he  nodded 
obliquely,  arched  his  eyebrows,  pursed  up  his  lips,  and 
crossed  his  arms,  while  he  gave  utterance  to  a  strange, 
half-whispered  laugh. 

"  He,  he,  he !"  he  cried  ;  "  so  you  are  on  your  knees, 
Agellius.'* 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  be  at  this  hour,"  answered 
Agellius,  "and  before  I  go  to  bed?" 

"  0,  every  one  to  his  taste,  of  couVse,"  said  Juba; 
"but  to  an  unprejudiced  mind  there  is  something 
unworthy  in  the  act." 

"AVh}'-,  Juba,"  said  his  brother  somewhat  sharply, 
"  don't  you  profess  any  religion  at  all  ?" 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      25 

"Perhaps  I  do,  and  perhaps  I  don't,"  answered 
Juba ;  "  but  never  shall  it  be  a  bowing  and  scraping, 
crawling  and  cringing  religion.  You  may  take  your 
oath  of  that." 

"  AVhat  ails  you  to  come  here  at  tbis  time  of 
night?"  asked  Agellius ;  "who  asked  for  your  com- 
pany?"^ 

"I  will  come  just  when  I  please,"  said  the  other, 
"  and  go  when  I  please.  I  won't  give  an  account  of 
my  actions  to  any  one,  god  or  man,  devil  or  priest, 
much  less  to  you.  What  right  have  you  to  ask 
me?" 

"  Then,"  said  Agellius,  "  you'll  never  get  peace  or 
comfort  as  long  as  you  live ;  that  I  can  tell  you ;  let 
alone  the  life  to  come." 

Juba  kept  silent  for  a  while,  and  bit  his  nails  with 
a  smile  on  his  face,  and  his  eyes  looking  askance  upon 
the  ground.  "  I  want  no  more  than  I  have ;  I  am 
well  content,"  he  said. 

"  Contented  with  yourself,"  retorted  Agellius. 

"Of  course,"  Juba  replied;  " Avhom  ought  one  to 
wish  rather  to  be  contented  with?" 

"I  suppose,  with  your  Creator." 

"  Creator  1"  answered  Juba,  tossing  back  his  head 
with  an  air  of  superiority ;  "  Creator ; — that,  I  con- 
sider, is  an  assumption." 

"  O  my  dear  brother,"  cried  Agellius,  "  don't  go  on 
in  that  dreadful  way  !" 

"  '  Go  on!'  who  began?  Is  one  man  to  lay  down 
the  law,  and  not  the  other  too  ?  is  it  so  generally 
received,  this  belief  of  a  Creator?  Who  have 
brought  in  the  belief?  the  Christians.  'Tis  the 
Christians  that  began  it.  The  world  went  on  very 
well  without  it  before  their  rise.  And  now,  who 
began  the  dispute  but  you?" 

"A¥ell,  if  I  did,"*  answered  Agellius;  "but  I 
didn't.  You  began  in  coming  here;  what  in  the 
world  are  you  come  for  ?  by  what  right  do  you  disturb 
me  at  this  hour?" 


26  CALLISTA ; 

There  was  no  appearance  of  anger  in  Juba ;  ha 
seemed  as  free  from  feeling  of  every  kind,  from  Avhat 
is  called  heart,  as  if  he  had  been  a  stone.  '  In  answer 
to  his  brother's  question,  he  quietly  said,  "  I  have 
been  down  there,"  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the 
woods. 

An  expression  of  sharp  anguish  passed  over  his 
brother's  face,  and  for  a  moment  he  was  silent.  At 
length  he  said,  "You  don't  mean  to  say  you  have 
been  down  to  poor  mother  ?" 

"I  do,"  said  Juba. 

There  was  again  a  silence  for  a  little  while ;  then 
Agellius  renewed  the  conversation.  "  Ton  have  fallen 
off  sadly,  Juba,  in  tlie  course  of  the  last  several  years.'* 

Juba  tossed  his  head,  and  crossed  his  legs. 

"  At  one  time  I  thought  you  would  have  been  bap- 
tized," his  brother  continued. 

"That  was  my  weakness,"  answered  Juba;  "it  was 
a  weak  moment:  it  was  just  after  the  old  bishop's 
death.  He  had  been  kind  to  me  as  a  child ;  and  he 
said  some  womanish  words  to  me,  and  it  was  excusable 
in  me." 

"0  that  you  had  yielded  to  your  wish!"  cried 
Agellius. 

Juba  looked  superior.  "  The  fit  passed,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  come  to  a  juster  view  of  things.  It  is  not 
every  one  who  has  the  strength  of  mind.  I  consider 
that  a  logical  head  comes  to  a  very  different  conclu- 
sion ;"  and  he  began  wagging  his  own,  to  the  right 
and  left,  as  if  it  were  coming  to  a  great  many. 

"  Well,"  said  Agellius,  gaping,  and  desiring  at  least 
to  come  to  a  conclusion  of  the  altercation,  "  what 
brings  you  here  so  late  ?" 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  Jucundus,"  he  answered, 
"  and  have  been  delayed  by  the  Succoth-benoth  in  the 
grove  across  the  river." 

Here  they  were  thrown  back  upon  their  controversy. 
Agellius  turned  quite  white.  "My  poor  fellow,"  he 
said,  "  what  were  you  there  for?" 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      27 

"  To  see  the  world,"  answered  Juba ;  "  it's  un- 
manly not  to  see  it.  Why  shouldn't  I  see  it  ?  It  was 
good  fun.  I  despise  them  all,  fools  and  idiots.  There 
they  were,  scampering  about,  or  lying  like  logs,  all  in 
liquor.  Apes  and  swine !  However,  I  will  do  as 
others  do,  if  I  please.  I  will  be  as  drunk  as  they, 
when  I  see  good.  I  am  my  own  master,  and  it  would 
be  no  kind  of  harm. 

"  No  harm !  why,  is  it  no  liarm  to  become  an  ape  or 
a  hog?" 

"You  don't  take  just  views  of  human  nature,"  an- 
swered Juba  with  a  self-satisfied  air.  "  Our  first 
duty  is  to  seek  our  own  happiness.  If  a  man  thinks 
it  happier  to  be  a  hog,  why  let  him  be  a  hog,"  and  he 
laughed.  "Tins  is  where  you  are  narrow-minded.  I 
shall  seek  my  own  happiness,  and  try  this  way,  if  I 
please." 

"Happiness!"  cried  Agellius;  "where  have  you 
been  picking  up  all  this  stuff?  Can  you  call  such 
detestable  filth  happiness?" 

"AVhat  do  you  know  about  such  matters?"  asked 
Juba.  "  Did  you  ever  see  them  ?  did  you  ever  try 
them  ?  You  would  be  twice  the  man  you  are,  if  you 
had.  You  will  not  be  a  man  till  you  do.  You  are 
carried  off  your  legs  in  your  own  way.  I'd  rather  get 
drunk  every  day  than  fall  down  on  all-fours  as  you  do, 
crawling  on  your  stomach  like  a  worm,  and  whining 
like  a  hound  that  has  been  beaten." 

"  Now,  as  I  live,  you  shan't  stop  here  one  instant 
longer!"  cried  out  Agellius,  starting  up.  "Be  off 
with  you!  get  away!  what  do  you  come  here  to  blas- 
pheme for?  who  wants  you  ?  who  asked  for  you  ?  Go! 
go,  I  say!  take  yourself  off!  Why  don't  you  go? 
Keep  your  ribaldry  for  others." 

"I  am  as  good  as  you  any  day,"   said  Juba. 

"  I  don't  set  myself  up,"  answered  Agellius,  "  but  it's 
impossible  to  coiiibund  Christian  and  unbeliever  as  you 
do." 


28  CALLISTA  ; 

"  Christian  and  unbeliever!"  said  Juba  slowly.  "  I 
suppose,  when  they  are  a-courting  each  other,  they 
are  confounded."  He  looked  hard  at  Ageliius,  as  if 
he  thought  he  had  hit  a  blot.  Then  he  continued, 
"  If  I  were  a  Christian,  I'd  be  so  in  earnest ;  else  I'd 
be  an  honest  heathen." 

Ageliius  coloured  somewhat,  and  sat  down,  as  if 
under  embarrassment. 

"I  despise  you,"  said  Juba;  "you  have  not  the 
pluck  to  be  a  Christian.  Be  consistent,  and  fizz  upon 
a  stake;  but  you're  not  made  of  that  stuff.  You're 
even  afraid  of  uncle.  Nay,  you  can  be  caught  by 
those  painted  wares,  about  which,  when  it  suits  your 
purpose,  you  can  be  so  grave.  I  despise  you,"  he 
continued, "  I  despise  you,  and  the  whole  kit  of  you. 
"What's  the  difference  between  you  and  another  ?  Your 
people  say,  '  Earth's  a  vanity,  life's  a  dream,  riches  a 
deceit,  pleasure  a  snare.  Fratres  charissimi,  the  time 
is  short ;'  but  who  love  earth,  and  life,  and  riches,  and 
pleasure  better  than  they  ?  You  are  all  of  you  as 
fond  of  the  world,  as  set  upon  gain,  as  chary  of  repu- 
tation, as  ambitious  of  power,  as  the  jolly  old  heathen 
who,  you  say,  is  goiug  the  way  of  the  pit." 

"  It  is  one  thing  to  have  a  conscience,"  answered 
Ageliius,  "  another  thing  to  act  upon  it.  The  con- 
science of  these  poor  people  is  darkened.  You  had  a 
conscience  once." 

"Conscience,  conscience,"  said  Juba.  "Yes,  cer- 
tainly, once  I  had  a  conscience.  Yes,  and  once  I  had 
a  bad  chill,  and  went  about  chattering  and  shivering ; 
and  once  I  had  a  game  leg,  and  then  I  went  limping; 
and  so,  you  see,  I  once  on  a  time  had  a  conscience. 
0  yes,  I  have  had  many  consciences  before  now, 
w4iite,  black,  yellow,  and  green :  they  were  all  bad ; 
but  they  are  all  gone,  and  now  I  have  none." 

Ageliius  said  nothing ;  his  one  wish,  as  may  be 
supposed,  was  to  get  rid  of  so  unwelcome  a  vi- 
sitor. 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      29 

"The  truth  is,"  continued  Juba,  with  the  air  of  a 
teacher,  "  the  truth  is,  that  religion  was  a  fashion 
with  me,  which  is  now  gone  by.  It  was  the  com- 
plexion of  a  particular  stage  of  my  life.  I  was  neither 
the  better  nor  the  worse  for  it.  It  was  an  accident, 
like  the  bloom  on  my  face,  which  soon,"  he  said, 
spreading  his  fingers  over  his  dirty-coloured  cheeks, 
and  stroking  them,  "which  soon  will  disappear.  I 
acted  according  to  the  feeling,  while  it  lasted ;  but  I 
can  no  more  recal  it  than  my  first  teeth,  or  the  down 
on  my  chin.     It's  among  the  things  that  were." 

Agellius  still  keeping  silence  from  weariness  and 
disgust,  he  looked  at  him  in  a  significant  way,  and  said 
slowly,  "  I  see  how  it  is  ;  I  have  penetration  enough 
to  perceive  that  you  don't  believe  a  bit  more  about 
religion  than  I  do." 

"  You  must  not  say  that  under  my  roof,"  cried 
Agellius,  feeling  he  must  not  let  his  brother's  charge 
pass  without  a  protest.  "  Many  are  my  sins,  but  un- 
belief is  not  one  of  them." 

Juba  tossed  his  head.  "  I  think  I  can  see  through 
a  stone  slab  as  well  as  any  one,"  he  said.  "It  is  as  I 
have  said ;  but  you're  too  proud  to  confess  it.  It's 
part  of  your  hypocrisy." 

"We'll,"  said  Agellius  coldly,  "let's  have  done. 
It's  getting  late,  Juba;  you'll  be  missed  at  home. 
Jucundus  will  be  inquiring  of  you,  and  some  of  those 
revelling  friends  of  yours  may  do  you  a  mischief  by 
the  way. — Why,  my  good  fellow,"  he  continued 
in  surprise,  "you  have  no  leggings.  The  scorpions 
will  catch  hold  of  you  to  a  certainty  in  the  dark. 
Come,  let  me  tie  some  straw  wisps  about  you." 

"No  fear  of  scorpions  for  me,"  answered  Juba;  "I 
have  some  real  good  amulets  for  the  occasion,  which 
even  hoola-Jcog  and  vffah  will  respect." 

Saying  this,  he  passed  out  of  the  room  as  uncere- 
moniously as  he  had  entered  it,  and  took  the  direction 
of  the  city,  talking  to  himself,  and  singing  snatches  of 
wild  airs  as  he  went  along,  throwing  back  and  shaking 


30  CALLI9TA : 

his  head,  and  now  and  then  uttering  a  sharp  internal 
laugh.  Disdaining  to  follow  the  ordinary  path,  he 
dived  down  into  the  thick  and  wet  grass,  and  scram- 
bled through  the  ravine,  which  the  public  road  crossed 
before  it  ascended  the  hill.  Meanwhile  he  accompanied 
his  quickened  pace  with  a  louder  strain,  and  it  ran  as 
follows : — 

"The  little  black  Moor  is  the  chap  for  me, 
When  the  night  is  dark,  and  the  earth  is  free, 
Under  the  limbs  of  the  broad  yew-tree. 

'Twas  Father  Cham  that  planted  that  yew, 
And  he  fed  it  fat  with  the  bloody  dew 
Of  a  score  of  brats,  as  his  lineage  grew. 

Footing  and  flaunting  it,  all  in  the  night, 
Each  lock  flings  fire,  each  heel  strikes  light ; 
No  lamps  need  they,  whose  breath  is  bright." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  sudden  growl,  whicli 
sounded  almost  under  his  feet ;  and  some  wild  animal 
was  seen  to  slink  away.  Juba  showed  no  surprise ; 
he  had  taken  out  a  small  metal  idol,  and  whispering 
some  words  to  it,  had  presented  it  to  the  animal.  He 
clambered  up  the  bank,  gained  the  city  gate,  and 
made  his  way  for  his  uncle's  dwelling,  which  was  near 
the  temple  of  Astarte. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.      31 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  house  of  Jucundus  was  closed  for  the  night  when 
Juba  reached  it,  or  you  would  see,  were  you  his  com- 
panion, that  it  was  one  of  the  most  showy  shops  in 
Sicca.  It  was  the  imnge-store  of  the  place,  and  set 
out  for  sale,  not  articles  of  statuary  alone,  but  of  me- 
tal, of  mosaic  work,  and  of  jewelry,  as  far  as  they  were 
dedicated  to  the  service  of  paganism.  It  was  bright 
with  the  many  colours  adopted  in  the  embellishment 
of  images,  and  the  many  lights  which  silver  and  gold, 
brass  and  ivory,  alabaster,  gypsum,  talc,  and  glass  re- 
flected. Shelves  and  cabinets  were  laden  with  wares; 
both  the  precious  material,  and  the  elaborated  trinket. 
All  tastes  were  suited,  the  popular  and  the  refined, 
the  fiishion  of  the  day  and  the  love  of  the  antique,  the 
classical  and  the  barbarian  devotion.  There  you  might 
see  the  rude  symbols  of  invisible  powers,  which,  origi- 
nating in  deficiency  of  art,  had  been  perpetuated  by 
reverence  for  the  past ;  the  mysterious  cube  of  marble 
sacred  among  the  Arabs,  the  pillar  which  was  the 
emblem  of  Mercury  or  Bacchus,  the  broad-based  cone 
of  Heliogabakis,  the  pyramid  of  Paphos,  and  the  tile  or 
brick  of  Juno.  There  too  were  the  unmeaning  blodts 
of  stone  with  human  heads,  which  were  to  be  dressed 
out  in  rich  robes,  and  to  simulate  the  human  form. 
There  were  other  articles  besides,  as  portable  as  these 
were  unmanageable ;  little  Junes,  Mercuries,  Dianas, 
and  Fortunes,  for  the  bosom  or  the  girdle.     House- 


32  CALLISTA ; 

hold  gods  were  there,  and  the  objects  of  personal 
devotion,  Minerva  or  Vesta,  viith  handsome  niches  or 
shrines  in  which  thej  might  reside.  There  too  were 
the  brass  crowns,  or  nimbi,  which  were  intended  to 
protect  the  heads  of  the  gods  from  bats  and  birds. 
There  you  might  buy,  were  you  a  heathen,  rings  with 
heads  on  them  of  Jupiter,  Mars,  the  Sun,  Serapis,  and 
above  all  Astarte.  You  would  find  there  the  rings 
and  signets  of  the  Basilidians ;  amulets  too  of  wood 
or  ivory ;  figures  of  demons,  preternaturally  ugly ; 
little  skeletons,  and  other  superstitious  devices.  It 
would  be  hard,  indeed,  if  you  could  not  be  pleased, 
whatever  your  religious  denomination,  unless  indeed 
you  were  determined  to  reject  all  the  appliances  and 
objects  of  idolatry  indiscriminately ;  and  in  that  case 
you  would  rejoice  that  it  was  night,  when  you  arrived 
there,  and,  in  particular,  that  darkness  swallowed  up 
other  appliances  and  objects  of  pagan  worsliip,  which 
to  darkness  were  due  by  a  peculiar  title,  and  by  dark- 
ness were  best  shrouded,  till  the  coming  of  that  day, 
when  all  things,  good  and  evil,  shall  be  made  light. 

The  shop,  as  we  have  said,  was  closed ;  concealed 
from  view  by  large  lumbering  shutters,  and  made 
secure  by  heavy  bars  of  wood.  So  we  must  enter  by 
the  passage  or  vestibule  on  the  right  side,  and  that 
will  conduct  us  into  a  modest  atrium,  with  an  implu' 
vium  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  triclinium  or 
supper-room,  backing  the  shop.  Jucundus  had  been 
pleasantly  engaged  in  a  small  supper-party ;  and, 
mindful  that  a  symposium  should  lie  within  the  num- 
ber of  the  Graces  and  of  the  Muses,  he  had  confined 
his  guests  to  two,  the  young  G-reek  Aristo,  who  was 
one  of  his  principal  artists,  and  Cornelius,  the  son  of  a 
freedman  of  aEoman  of  distinction,  who  had  lately  got 
a  place  in  one  of  the  scrinia  of  the  proconsular  oj/icium, 
and  had  migrated  into  the  province  froui  the  imperial 
city,  where  he  had  spent  his  best  days. 

The  dinner  had  not  been  altogether  suitable  to 
modern  ideas  of  good  living.  The  grapes  from  Tacape, 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.       33 

and  the  dates  from  the  lake  Tritonis,  the  white  and 
black  figs,  the  nectarines  and  peaches,  and  the  water- 
melons, address  themselves  to  the  imagination  of  an 
Englishman,  as  well  as  of  an  African  of  the  third  cen- 
tury. So  also  might  the  liquor  derived  from  the.  sap 
or  honey  of  the  Getulian  palm,  and  the  sweet  wine, 
called  melilotus,  made  from  the  poetical  fruit  found 
upon  the  coasts  of  the  Syrtis.  He  would  have  been 
struck  too  Avith  the  sweetness  of  the  mutton ;  but  he 
would  have  asked  what  the  sheep's  tails  were  before 
he  tasted  them,  and  found  how  like  marrow  the  firm 
substance  ate,  of  which  they  consisted.  He  would 
have  felt  he  ought  to  admire  the  roes  of  mullets, 
pressed  and  dried,  from  Mauretania ;  but  he  would 
have  thought  twice  before  he  tried  the  lion  cutlets, 
though  they  had  the  flavour  of  veal,  and  the  addi- 
tional gotit  of  being  imperial  property,  and  poached 
from  a  preserve.  I^ut,  when  he  saw  the  indigenous 
dish,  the  very  haggis  and  cock-a-leeIi.ie  of  Africa,  in 
the  shape  of — (alas !  alas !  it  must  be  said,  with  what- 
ever apology  for  its  introduction) — in  shape,  then,  of 
a  delicate  pnppy,  served  up  with  tomatas,  with  its 
head  between  its  fore-paws,  we  consider  he  would 
have  risen  from  the  unlioly  table,  and  thought  he  had 
fallen  upon  the  hospitality  of  some  sorceress  of  the 
neighbouring  forest.  However,  to  that  festive  board 
our  Briton  was  not  invited,  for  he  had  some  previous 
engagement  that  evening,  either  of  painting  himself 
with  woad,  or  of  hiding  himself  to  the  chin  in  the  fens  ; 
so  that  nothing  occurred  to  disturb  the  harmony  of 
the  party,  and  the  good  humour  and  easy  conversa- 
tion which  was  the  eifect  of  such  excellent  cheer. 

Cornelius  had  been  present  at  the  Secular  Grames  in 
'the  foregoing  year,  and  was  full  of  them,  of  Home,  and 
of  himself  in  connexion  with  it,  as  became  so  genuine 
a  cockney  of  the  imperial  period.  He  was  ftdl  of  the 
high  patriotic  thoughts  which  "so  solemn  a  celebration 
had  kindled  within  him.  "  0  great  Ivome!"  he  said, 
"thou  art  first,  and  there  is  no  second.     In  that  won- 

D 


34  CALLISTA ; 

derful  pageant  whicli  these  eyes  saw  last  year  -was 
embodied  her  majesty,  was  promised  her  eternity.  AVe 
die,  she  lives.  1  say,  let  a  man  die.  It's  well  for  him 
to  take  hemlock,  or  open  a  vein,  after  having  seen  the 
secular  games.  What  was  there  to  live  for  ?  I  felt 
it ;  life  was  gone ;  its  best  gifts  flat  and  insipid  after 
that  great  day.  Excellent — Tauromenian,  I  suppose  ? 
We  know  it  in  Kome.  Fill  up  my  cup.  1  drink  to 
the  genius  of  the  emperor." 

He  was  full  of  his  subject,  and  soon  resumed  it. 
"  Fancy  the  Campus  Martins  lighted  up  from  one  end 
to  the  other.  It  was  the  finest  thing  in  the  world.  A 
large  plain,  covered,  not  with  streets,  not  with  woods, 
but  broken  and  crossed  with  superb  buildings  in  the 
midst  of  groves,  avenues  of  trees,  and  green  grass 
down  to  the  water's  edge.  There's  nothing  that  isn't 
there.  Do  you  want  the  grandest  temples  in  the 
world,  the  most  spacious  porticoes,  the  longest  race- 
courses ?  there  they  are.  Do  you  want  gymnasia 'f 
there  they  are.  Do  you  want  arches,  statues,  obelisks  ? 
you  find  them  there.  There  you  have  at  one  end  the 
stupendous  mausoleum  of  Augustus,  cased  with  white 
marble,  and  just  across  the  river  the  huge  towering 
mound  of  Hadrian.  At  the  other  end  you  have  the 
noble  Pantheon  of  Agrippa,  with  its  splendid  Syra- 
cusan  columns,  and  its  dome  glittering  with  silver 
tiles.  Hard  by  are  the  baths  of  Alexander^  with  their 
beautiful  groves.  Ah,  my  good  friend  !  I  shall  have  uo 
time  to  drink,  if  I  go  on.  Beyond  are  the  numerous 
chapels  and  fanes  which  fringe  the  base  of  the  Capi- 
toline  hill ;  the  tall  column  of  Antoninus  comes  next, 
with  its  adjacent  basilica,  where  is  kept  the  authentic 
list  of  the  provinces  of  the  empire,  and  of  the  govern- 
ors, each  a  king  in  power  and  dominion,  who  are 
sent  out  to  them.  AVell,  I  am  now  only  beginning. 
Fancy,  I  say,  this  magnificent  region  all  lighted  up ; 
e\'ery  temple  to  and  fro,  every  bath,  every  grove, 
gleaming  with  innumerable  lamps  and  torches.  Iso, 
not  even  the  gods  of  Olympus  have  any  thing  that 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      85 

comes  near  ifc.  Eome  is  the  greatest  of  all  divinities. 
In  the  dead  of  night  all  was  alive  ;  then  it  \Yas,  when 
nature  sleeps  exhausted,  Eome  began  the  solemn 
sacrifices  to  commemorate  her  thousand  years.  On  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber,  which  had  seen  ^neas  land,  and 
Eomulus  ascend  to  the  gods,  the  clear  red  flame  shot 
up  as  the  victims  burned.  The  music  of  ten  thousand 
horns  and  flutes  burst  forth,  and  the  sacred  dances 
began  upon  the  greensward.  I  am  too  old  to  dance  ; 
but,  I  protest,  even  I  stood  up  and  threw  ofl[*.  We 
danced  through  three  nights,  dancing  the  old  mil- 
lenary out,  dancing  the  new  millenary  in.  We 
were  all  Eomans,  no  strangers,  no  slaves.  It  was  a 
solemn  family  feast,  the  feast  of  all  the  Eomans." 

"  Then  we  came  in  for  the  feast,"  said  Aristo  ;  "  for 
Caracalla  gave  Eoraan  citizenship  to  all  freemen  all 
over  the  world.  AVe  are  all  of  us  Eomans,  recollect, 
Cornelius." 

"  Ah !  that  was  another  matter,  a  condescension," 
answered  Cornelius.  "  Yes,  in  a  certain  sense,  I 
grant  it ;  but  it  was  a  political  act  " 

"I  warrant  you,"  retorted  Aristo,  "most  political. 
"We  were  to  be  fleeced,  do  you  see  ?  so  your  imperial 
government  made  us  Eomans,  that  we  might  have  the 
taxes  of  Eomans,  and  that  in  addition  to  our  own. 
You've  taxed  us  double  ;.  and  as  for  the  privilege  of 
citizenship,  much  it  is,  by  Hercules,  when  every  snob 
has  it  who  can  wear  a  jnleus  or  cherish  his  hair." 

"  Ah  !  but  you  should  have  seen  the  procession  from 
the  Capitol,"  continued  Cornelius,  "  on,  I  think,  the 
second  day ;  from  the  Capitol  to  the  Circus,  all  down 
the  Via  Sacra.  Hosts  of  strangers  there,  and  provincials 
from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  but  not  in  the  pro- 
cession. There  you  saw  all  in  one  coup-cVoeil  the  real 
good  blood  of  Eome,  the  young  blood  of  the  new  gene- 
ration, and  promise  of  the  future  ;  the  sons  of  patrician 
and  consular  families,  of  imperators,  orators,  conquer- 
ors, statesmen.  They  rodo  at  the  head  of  the  pro- 
cession, line  young  fellows,  six  abreast ;  and  still  more 
D  2 


36  CALLISTA ; 

of  them  on  foot.  Then  came  the  running  horses  and 
the  chariots,  the  boxers,  wrestlers,  and  other  com- 
batants, all  ready  for  the  competition.  The  whole 
school  of  gladiators  then  turned  out,  boys  and  all,  with 
their  masters,  dressed  in  red  tunics,  and  splendidly 
armed.  They  formed  three  bands,  and  they  went  for- 
ward gaily,  dancing  and  singing  the  Pyrrhic.  By-the- 
bye,  a  thousand  pair  of  gladiators  fought  during  the 
games,  a  round  thousand,  and  such  clean-made,  well- 
built  fellows,  and  they  came  against  each  other  so 
gallantly !  Tou  should  have  seen  it ;  I  can't  go 
through  it.  There  was  a  lot  of  satyrs,  jumping  and 
frisking,  in  burlesque  of  the  martial  dances  which  pre- 
ceded them.  There  was  a  crowd  of  trumpeters  and 
horn-blowers ;  ministers  of  the  sacrifices  with  their 
victims,  bulls  and  rams,  dressed  up  with  gay  wreaths ; 
drivers,  butchers,  haruspices,  heralds ;  images  of  gods 
with  their  cars  of  ivory  or  of  silver,  drawn  by  tame 
lions  and  elephants.  I  can't  recollect  the  order.  O ! 
but  the  grandest  thing  of  all  was  the  Carmen,  sung  by 
twenty-seven  noble  youths,  and  as  many  noble  maidens, 
taken  for  the  purpose  from  the  bosoms  of  their  families 
to  propitiate  the  gods  of  Eome.  The  flamens,  augurs, 
colleges  of  priests,  it  was  endless.  Last  all  of  came  the 
emperor  himself." 

"  That's  the  late  man,"  observed  Jucundus,  "  Philip  ; 
no  bad  riddance  his  death  if  all's  true  that's  said  of 
him." 

"All  emperors  are  good  in  their  time  and  way," 
answered  Cornelius ;  "  Philip  was  good  then,  and 
Decius  is  good  now; — whom  the  gods  preserve !" 

"True,"  said  Aristo,  "I  understand;  an  emperor 
cannot  do  wrong,  except  in  dying,  and  then  every 
thing  goes  wrong  with  him.  His  death  is  his  first 
bad  deed ;  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  it ;  it  somehow 
turns  all  his  great  virtues  iuto  vices." 

"  Ah !  no  one  was  so  good  an  emperor  as  our  man, 
Gordianus,"  said  Jucundus,  "  a  princely  old  man, 
living  and  dead.     Patron  of  trade,  and  of  the  artsj 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      37 

such  villas !  he  had  enormous  revenues.  Poor  old 
gentleman !  and  his  son  too.  I  never  shall  forget  the 
day  when  the  news  came  that  he  was  gone.  Let 
me  see,  it  was  shortly  after  that  old  fool  Strabo's 
death, — I  mean  my  brother;  a  good  thirteen  years 
ago.  All  Africa  was  in  tears ;  there  was  no  one  like 
Grordianus." 

"  That's  old  world's  philosophy,"  said  Aristo  ;  "  Ju- 
cundus,  you  must  go  to  school.  Don't  you  see  that 
all  that  is,  is  right ;  and  all  that  was,  is  wrong  ? 
'Te  nos  facimus,  Eortuna,  deam\'  says  your  poet; 
well,  I  drink  '  to  the  fortune  of  Eome,' — while  it 
lasts." 

"You're  a  young  man,"  answered  Cornelius,  "a 
very  young  man,  and  a  Greek.  Greeks  never  under- 
stand Eome.  It's  most  difficult  to  understand  us. 
It's  a  science.  Look  at  this  medal,  young  gentle- 
man ;  it  was  one  of  those  struck  at  the  games.  Is  it 
not  grand  ?  '  Novum  saeculum  ;'  and  on  the  reverse, 
'JEternitati.'  Always  changing,  always  imierisbable. 
Emperors  rise  and  fall ;  Eome  remains.  Tiie  eternal 
city  !     Isn't  this  good  philosophy  ?" 

"Truly,  a  most  beautiful  medal,"  said  Aristo,  ex- 
amining it,  and  handing  it  on  to  his  host.  "  Tou 
might  make  an  amulet  of  it,  Jacundus.  But  as  to 
eternity,  wby  it  is  a  very  great  word ;  and  if  I  mistake 
not,  other  states  have  been  eternal  before  Eome.  Ten 
centuries  is  a  very  respectable  eternity ;  be  content, 
Eome  is  eternal  already,  and  may  die  without  preju- 
dice to  the  medal." 

"Blaspheme  not,"  replied  Cornelius;  "Eome  is 
healthier,  more  full  of  life,  and  promises  more,  than  at 
any  former  time,  you  may  rely  upon  it.  'Nov^mi 
sflDculum!'  she  has  the  age  of  the  eagle,  and  will  but 
cast  her  feathers  to  begin  a  fresh  thousand." 

"But  Egypt,"  interposed  Aristo,  "if  old  Herodo- 
tus speaks  true,  scarcely  had  a  beginning.   Up  and  up. 

1  "  We  make  thee,  O  Fortune,  a  goddess." 


38  OALLISTA ; 

the  higher  you  do  go,  the  more  dynasties  of  Egyptian 
Kings  do  you  find.  And  we  hear  strange  reports  of 
the  nations  in  the  far  east,  beyond  the  Granges." 

"But  I  tell  you,  man,"  rejoined  Cornelius,  "Eome 
is  a  city  of  kings.  That  one  city,  in  this  one  year, 
has  as  many  kings  at  once  as  those  of  all  the  kings 
of  all  the  dynasties  of  Egypt  put  together.  Sesostris, 
and  the  rest  of  them,  what  are  they  to  imperators, 
prefects,  proconsuls,  vicarii,  and  rationales  ?  Look 
back  at  Lucullus,  Caesar,  Pompey,  Sylla,  Titus,  Trajan. 
What's  old  Cheops's  pyramid  to  the  Flavian  amphi- 
theatre ?  "What  is  the  many-gated  Thebes  to  JSTero's 
golden  house,  while  it  was  ?  Wbat  the  grandest 
palace  of  Sesostris  or  Ptolemy  but  a  second-rate 
villa  of  one  of  ten  thousand  Eoman  citizens  ?  Our 
houses  stand  on  acres  of  ground ;  they  ascend  as  high 
as  the  tower  of  Babylon;  they  swarm  with  cokuuns 
like  a  forest;  they  pullulate  into  statues  and  pictures. 
The  walls,  pavements,  and  ceilings  are  dazzling  from 
the  lustre  of  the  rarest  marble,  red  and  yellow,  green 
and  mottled.  Fountains  of  perfumed  water  shoot 
aloft  from  the  floor,  and  fish  swim  in  rocky  channels 
round  about  the  room,  waiting  to  be  caught  and  killed 
for  the  banquet.  We  dine ;  and  we  feast  on  the  head 
of  the  ostrich,  the  brains  of  the  peacock,  the  liver  of 
the  bienm,  the  milk  of  the  murena,  and  the  tongue  of 
the  flamingo.  A  swarm  of  doves,  nightingales,  becca- 
ficos  are  concentrated  into  one  dish.  On  great  occa- 
sions we  eat  a  phoenix.  Our  saucepans  are  of  silver, 
our  dishes  of  gold,  our  vases  of  onyx,  and  our  cups  of 
precious  stones.  Hangings  and  carpets  of  Tyrian 
purple  are  around  us  and  beneath  us,  and  we  lie  on 
ivory  couches.  The  choicest  wines  of  Greece  and 
Italy  crown  our  goblets,  and  exotic  flowers  crown  our 
heads.  In  come  troops  of  dancers  from  Lydia,  or 
pantomimes  from  Alexandria,  to  entertain  both  eye 
and  mind;  or  our  noble  dames  and  maidens  take  a 
place  at  our  tables;  they  wash  in  asses'  milk,  they 
dress   by  mirrors  as   large   as  fish-ponds,   and   they 


A  SEETCn  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      39 

glitter  from  head  to  foot  with  combs,  brooches,  r.eck- 
laces,  collars,  ear-rings,  armlets,  bracelets,  iinger-rir.gs, 
girdles,  stomachers,  and  anklets,  all  of  diamond  and 
emerald.  Our  slaves  may  be  counted  by  thousands, 
and  they  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Every 
thing  rare  and  precious  is  brought  to  Rome:  the  gam 
of  Arabia,  the  iiard  of  Assyria,  the  papyrus  of  Egypt, 
the  citron-wood  of  Mauretania,  the  bronze  of  iEgina, 
the  pearls  of  Britain,  the  cloth  of  gold  of  Phrygia, 
the  fine  webs  of  Cos,  the  embroidery  of  Babylon,  the 
silks  of  Persia,  the  lion-skins  of  Getulia,  the  wool  of 
Miletus,  the  plaids  of  Gaul,  Thus  we  live,  an  impe- 
rial people,  who  do  nothing  but  enjoy  themselves,  and 
keep  festival  the  whole  year ;  and  at  length  we  die, — 
and  then  we  burn:  we  burn, — in  stacks  of  cinnamon 
and  cassia,  and  in  shrouds  of  ashfistos,  making  empha- 
tically a  good  end  of  it.  Such  are  we  Eomans,  a  great 
people.  Why,  we  are  honoured  wherever  we  go. 
There's  my  master,  there's  myself;  as  ^xe  came  here 
iVom  Italy,  I  protest  we  were  nearly  worshipped  as 
demigods." 

"And  perhaps  some  fine  morning,"  said  Aristo, 
"  Eome  herself  will  burn  in  cinnamon  and  cassia,  and 
in  all  her  burnished  Corinthian  brass  and  scarlet 
bravery,  the  old  mother  following  her  children  to  tlie 
funeral  pyre.  One  has  heard  something  of  Babylon, 
and  its  drained  moat,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  Per- 
sian." 

A  pause  occurred  in  the  conversation,  as  one  of 
Jucundus's  slaves  entered  with  fresh  wine,  larger 
goblets,  and  a  vase  of  snow  from  the  Atlas. 


40  cailista; 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CoETfELiirs  was  full  of  his  subject,  and  did  not  attend 
to  the  Greek.  "The  wild-beast  hunts,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  ah,  those  hunts  during  the  games,  Aristo ! 
they  were  a  spectacle  for  the  gods.  Twenty-two 
elephants,  ten  panthers,  ten  hyenas  (by-the-bye,  a  new 
beast,  not  strange,  however,  to  you  here,  I  suppose), 
ten  camelopards,  an  hippopotamus,  a  rhinoceros — I 
can't  go  through  the  list.  Taney  the  circus  planted 
throughout  for  the  occasion,  and  turned  into  a  park, 
and  then  another  set  of  wild  animals,  Getes  and  Sar- 
matians,  Celts  and  Goths,  sent  in  against  them,  to 
hunt  down,  capture,  and  kill  them,  or  to  be  killed 
themselves." 

"Ah,  the  Goths!"  answered  Aristo;  "those  fel- 
lows give  you  trouble,  though,  now  and  then.  Per- 
haps they  will  give  you  more.  There  is  a  report 
in  the  prsetorium  to-day,  that  the}^  have  crossed  the 
Danube." 

"Yes,  they  loill  give  us  trouble,"  said  Cornelius 
drily ;  "  they  have  given  us  trouble,  and  they  will  give 
us  more.  The  Samnites  gave  us  trouble,  and  our  triends 
of  Carthage  here,  and  Jugurtha,  and  Mithridates; 
trouble,  yes,  that  is  the  long  and  the  short  of  it; 
they  will  give  us  trouble.  Is  trouble  a  new  thing 
to  Home?"  he  asked,  stretching  out  his  arm  as  if 
he  were  making  a  speech  after  dinner,  and  giving  a 
toast. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      41 

"The  Goths  give  trouble,  and  take  a  bribe,"  re- 
torted Aristo ;  "  this  is  what  trouble  means  in  this 
case ;  it's  a  troublesome  fellow  who  hammers  at  our 
door  till  we  pay  his  reckoning.  It  is  troublesome  to 
raise  the  means  to  buy  them  off.  And  the  example 
of  these  troublesome  savages  is  catching ;  it  was  lately 
rumoured  that  the  Carpians  had  been  asking  the 
same  terms  for  keeping  quiet." 

"  It  would  ill  become  the  majesty  of  Eome  to  soil 
her  fingers  with  the  blood  of  such  vermin,"  said  Cor- 
nelius ;  "  she  ignores  them." 

"And  therefore  she  most  majestically  bleeds  ua 
instead,"  answered  Aristo,  "  that  she  may  have  trea- 
sure to  give  them.  "We  are  not  so  troublesome  as 
they;  the  more's  the  pity.  No  offence  to  you,  however, 
or  to  the  emperor,  or  to  great  Eome,  Cornelius.  We 
are  over  our  cups ;  it's  only  a  game  of  politics,  you 
know,  like  chess  or  the  cottabus.  Maro  bids  you 
*  parcere  subjectis,  et  debellare  superbos ' ;'  but  you 
have  changed  your  manners.  Tou  coax  the  Goths 
and  bully  the  poor  African." 

"  Africa  can  show  fight,  too,"  interposed  Jucundus, 
who  had  been  calmly  listening  and  enjoying  his  own 
wine ;  "  witness  Thysdrus.  That  was  giving  every 
rapacious  Quaestor  a  lesson  that  he  may  go  too  far, 
and  find  a  dagger  when  he  demands  a  purse." 

He  was  alluding  to  the  revolt  of  Africa,  which  led 
to  the  downfal  of  the  tyrant  Maxirain  and  the  exalta- 
tion of  the  Gordians,  when  the  native  landlords  armed 
their  peasantry,  killed  the  imperial  officer,  and  raised 
the  standard  of  rebellion  in  the  neighbouring  town  from 
impatience  of  exactions  under  which  they  suffered. 

"  No  oft'ence,  I  say,  Cornelius,  no  oflFence  to  eternal 
Eome,"  said  Aristo,  "but  you  have  explained  to  us 
why  you  weigh  so  heavy  on  us.  I've  always  heard 
it  was  a  fortune  at  Eome  to  the  man  who  found  out  a 
new  tax.     Vespasian  did  his  best ;  but  now  you  tax 

1  "  To  spare  the  subject,  and  lay  low  the  stubborn." 


42  CALLISTi. ; 

our  smoke,  and  our  very  shadow;  and  Pescenniu^  threat- 
ened to  tax  the  air  we  breathe.  AVe'll  plaj  at  riddles, 
and  you  shall  solve  the  following :— Say  who  is  she 
that  eats  her  own  limbs,  and  grows  eternal  upon  them  ? 
Ah,  the  Goths  will  take  the  measure  of  her  eternity !" 

"The  Goths!"  said  Jucundus,  who  was  warming 
into  conversational  life,  "  the  Goths  !  no  fear  of  the 
Goths;  but,"  and  he  nodded  significantly,  "look  at 
home;  we  have  more  to  fear  indoors  than  abroad." 

"  He  means  the  praetorians,"  said  Cornelius  to 
Aristo  condescendingly  ;  "  I  grant  you  that  there  have 
been  several  untoward  affairs  ;  we  have  had  our  pro- 
blem, but  it's  a  thing  of  the  past,  it  never  can  come 
again.  I  venture  to  say  that  the  power  of  the  prae- 
torians is  at  an  end.  That  murder  of  the  two  em- 
perors the  other  day  was  the  worst  job  they  ever  did ; 
it  has  turned  the  public  opinion  of  the  whole  world 
against  them.     I  have  no  fear  of  the  praetorians." 

"  I  don't  mean  praetorians  more  than  Goths,"  said 
Jucundus  :  "  no,  give  me  the  old  weapons,  the  old 
maxims  of  Eorae,  and  I  defy  the  scythe  of  Saturn.  Do 
the  soldiers  ^narch  under  the  old  ensigns  ?  do  they 
swear  by  the  old  gods  ?  do  they  interchange  the  good 
old  signals  and  watchwords  ?  do  they  worship  the 
fortune  of  Home  ?  then  I  say  we  are  safe.  But  do 
we  take  to  new  ways  ?  do  we  trifle  with  religion  ?  do 
we  make  light  of  Jupiter,  Mars,  liomulus,  the  augurs, 
and  the  ancilia?  then,  I  say,  not  all  our  shows  and 
games,  our  elephants,  hyenas,  and  hippopotamuses, 
will  do  us  any  good.  It  was  not  the  best  thing,  no, 
not  the  best  tiling  that  the  soldiers  did,  when  they 
invested  that  Philip  with  the  purple.  But  he  is  dead 
and  gone."     And  he  sat  up,  and  leaned  on  his  elbow. 

"Ah!  but  it  will  be  all  set  right  now,"  said  Corne- 
lius, '' yoiill  see." 

"  He'd  be  a  reformer,  that  Pliilip,"  continued  Ju- 
cundus, "  and  put  down  an  enormity.  AVell,  they  call 
it  an  enormity  ;  let  it  be  an  enormity.  He'd  put  it 
down ;  but  why  ?  there's  the  point ;  why  ?     It's  no 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      43 

secret  at  all,"  and  his  voice  grew  angry,  "that  that 
hoary-headed  atlieist  Eabius  was  at  the  bottom  of  it ; 
Tabius  the  Christian.     I  hate  reforms." 

"  Wei],  we  liad  long  wished  to  do  it,"  answered 
Cornelius,  "  but  could  not  manage  it.  Alexander 
attempted  it  near  twenty  years  ago.  It's  what  phi- 
losophers have  always  aimed  at." 

"The  gods  consume  philosophy  and  the  Christians 
together!"  said  Jucundus  devoutly.  "There's  little 
to  choose  between  them,  except  that  the  Christians  are 
the  filthier  animal  of  the  two.  But  both  are  ruining 
the  most  glorious  political  structure  that  the  world 
ever  saw.     I  am  not  over-fond  of  Alexander." 

"Thank  you  in  the  name  of  philosophy,"  said  the 
Greek. 

"  And  thank  you  in  the  name  of  the  Christians," 
chimed  in  Juba. 

"That's  good!"  cried  Jucundus  ;  "the  first  word 
that  hopeful  youth  has  spoken  since  he  came  in,  and 
he  takes  on  him  to  call  himself  a  Christian." 

"  I've  a  right  to  do  so,  if  I  choose,"  said  Juba ; 
"  I've  a  right  to  be  a  Christian." 

"l^ight!  0  yes,  right!  ha,  ha!"  answered  Jucun- 
dus, "  right !  Jove  help  the  lad  !  by  all  manner  of 
means.  Of  course,  you  have  a  right  to  go  in  malam 
rem  iu  whatever  way  you  please  " 

"I  am  my  own  master,"  said  Juba;  "my  father 
was  a  Christian.  I  suppose  it  depends  on  myself  to 
follow  him  or  not,  according  to  my  fancy,  and  as  long 
as  I  think  fit." 

"Fancy!  think  fit!"  answered  Jucundus,  "you 
pompous  little  mule  !  Yes,  go  and  be  a  Christian,  my 
dear  child,  as  your  doting  lather  went.  Go,  like  him, 
to  the  priest  of  their  mysteries  ;  be  spit  on,  stripped, 
dipped ;  feed  on  little  boys'  marrow  and  brains ; 
worship  the  ass ;  and  learn  all  the  foul  magic  of  the 
sect.  And  then  be  delated,  and  taken  up,  and  torn  to 
shreds  on  the  rack,  or  thrown  to  the  lions,  and  so  go 
to  Tartarus,  if  Tartarus  there  be,  in  the  w^ay  you  think 


44  CALLISTA  ; 

fit.  You'll  harm  none  but  yourself,  my  boy.  I  don't 
fear  such  as  you,  but  the  deeper  heads." 

Juba  stood  up  with  a  look  of  oifended  dignity,  and, 
as  on  former  occasions,  tossed  the  head  which  had  been 
by  implication  disparaged.     "I  despise  you,"  he  said. 

"Well,  but  you  are  hard  on  the  Christians,"  said^ 
Aristo.  "  I  have  heard  them  maintain  that  their  su- 
perstition, if  adopted,  would  be  the  salvation  of  Eome. 
They  maintain  that  the  old  religion  is  gone  or  going 
out ;  that  something  new  is  wanted  to  keep  the 
empire  together ;  and  that  their  worship  is  just  fitted 
to  the  times." 

"  All  I  say  to  the  vipers,"  said  Jucundus,  "  is,  '  Let 
well  alone.  We  did  well  enough  without  you;  we 
did  well  enough  till  you  sprang  up.'  A  plague  on  their 
insolence !  as  if  Jew  or  Egyptian  could  do  aught  for 
us,  when  Numa  and  the  Sibyl  fail.  This  is  what  I  say, 
let  Rome  be  true  to  herself,  and  nothing  can  harm 
her ;  let  her  shift  her  foundation,  and  I  would  not  buy 
her  for  this  water-melon,"  he  said,  taking  a  suck  at  it. 
"!Rome  alone  can  harm  Eome.  Eecollect  old  Horace, 
*  Suis  et  ipsa  Eoma  viribus  ruit  ^'  He  was  a  prophet. 
If  she  falls,  it  is  by  her  own  hand." 

"I  agree,"  said  Cornelius;  "certainly,  to  set  up 
any  new  worship  is  treason ;  not  a  doubt  of  it.  The 
gods  keep  us  from  such  ingratitude  !  We  have  grown 
great  by  means  of  them,  and  they  are  part  and  parcel 
of  the  law  of  Eome.  But  there  is  no  great  chance  of 
our  forgetting  this  ;  Decius  won't ;  that's  a  fact.  You 
will  see.  Time  will  show;  perhaps  to-morrow,  per- 
haps next  day,"  he  added  mysteriously. 

"Why  in  the  world  should  you  have  this  frantic 
dread  of  these  poor  scarecrows  of  Christians,"  said 
Aristo,  "  all  because  they  hold  an  opinion  ?  AVhy  are 
you  not  afraid  of  the  bats  and  the  moles  ?  It's  an 
opinion  :  there  have  been  other  opinions  before  them, 
and   there  will   be   other   opinions  after.     Let  them 

2  "  And  Rome  falls  by  her  own  powers." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUBY.       45 

alone,    aud   tliey'll  die  away ;  make  a  hubbub  about 
them,  and  they'll  spread." 

"  Spread  ?"  cried  Jucundus,  who  was  under  the  two- 
fold excitement  of  personal  feeling  and  of  wine,  "spread, 
they'll  spread  ?  yes,  they'll  spread.  Yes,grow,  like  scor- 
pions, twenty  at  a  birth.  The  country  already  swarms 
with  them  ;  they  are  as  many  as  frogs  or  grasshoppers ; 
they  start  up  every  where  under  one's  nose,  when  one 
least  expects  them.  The  air  breeds  them  like  plague- 
flies  ;  the  wind  drifts  them  like  locusts.  No  one's 
safe ;  any  one  may  be  a  Christian ;  it's  an  epidemic. 
Great  Jove !  I  may  be  a  Christian  before  I  know 
where  I  am.  Heaven  and  earth !  is  it  not  mon- 
strous ?"  he  continued,  with  increasing  fierceness. 
"  Yes,  Jucundus,  my  poor  man,  you  may  wake  and 
find  yourself  a  Christian,  without  knowing  it,  against 
your  will.  Ah,  my  friends,  pity  me  !  I  may  find  myself 
a  beast,  and  obliged  to  suck  blood  and  live  among  the 
tombs,  as  if  I  liked  it,  without  power  to  tell  you  how 
I  loathe  it,  all  through  their  sorcery.  By  the  genius 
of  Kome,  something  must  be  done.  I  say,  no  one  is 
safe.  You  call  on  your  friend ;  he  is  sitting  in  the 
dark,  unwashed,  uncombed,  undressed.  What  is  the 
matter  ?  Ah !  his  son  has  turned  Christian.  Your 
wedding-day  is  fixed,  you  are  expecting  your  bride ; 
she  does  not  come  ;  why  ?  she  will  not  have  you  ;  she 
has  become  a  Christian.  "Where's  young  Nomen- 
tanus  ?  Who  has  seen  Nomentanus  ?  in  the  forum 
or  the  campus,  in  the  circus,  in  the  bath  ?  Has  he 
caught  the  plague,  or  got  a  sunstroke  ?  Nothing  of  the 
kind ;  the  Christians  have  caught  hold  of  him.  Young 
and  old,  rich  and  poor,  my  lady  in  her  litter  and  her 
slave,  modest  maid  and  Lydia  at  the  Thermae,  nothing 
comes  amiss  to  them.  All  confidence  is  gone  ;  there's 
no  one  we  can  reckon  on.  I  go  to  my  tailor's: 
'  JSTergal,'  I  say  to'  him,  '  Nergal,  I  want  a  new  tunic' 
The  wretched  hypocrite  bows,  and  runs  to  and  fro,  and 
unpacks  his  stuffs  and  cloths,  like  another  man.     A 


46  CALLISTA  ; 

word  in  your  ear.  The  man's  a  Christian,  dressed 
up  like  a  tailor.  They  have  no  dress  of  their  own. 
If  I  were  emperor,  I'd  make  the  sneaking  curs  wear  a 
badge,  I  would;  a  dog's  collar,  a  fox's  tail,  or  a  pair 
of  ass's  ears.  Then  we  should  know  friends  from 
foes  w-hen  we  meet  them." 

"We  should  think  that  daugerous,"  said  Cornelius  ; 
"  however,  you  are  taking  it  too  much  to  heart ;  you 
are  making  too  much  of  them,  my  good  friend.  They 
have  not  even  got  the  present,  and  you  are  giving 
them  the  future,  which  is  just  what  they  want." 

"If  Jucundus  will  listen  to  me,"  said  Aristo,  "I 
could  satisfy  him  that  the  Christians  are  actually 
falling  off.  They  once  were  numerous  in  this  very- 
place  ;  now^  there  are  hardly  any.  They  have  been 
declining  for  these  fifty  years ;  the  danger  from  them 
is  past.  Do  you  want  to  know  how  to  revive  them  ? 
put  out  an  imperial  edict,  forbid  them,  denounce  them. 
Do  you  want  them  to  drop  away  like  autumn  leaves  ? 
take  no  notice  of  them. 

"I can't  deny  that  in  Italy  they  have  grown,"  said 
Cornelius ;  "  they  have  grown  in  numbers  and  in 
wealth,  and  they  intermarry  with  us.  Thus  the  upper 
class  becomes  to  a  certain  extent  infected.  "We  may 
find  it  necessary  to  repress  them ;  but,  as  you  would 
repress  vermin,  without  fearing  them." 

"  The  worshippers  of  the  gods  are  the  many,  and 
the  Christians  are  the  few,"  persisted  Aristo  ;  "  if  the 
two  parties  intermarry,  the  weaker  will  get  the  worst 
of  it.  You  will  find  the  statues  of  the  gods  gradually 
creeping  back  into  the  Christian  chapel ;  and  a  man 
must  be  an  honest  fellow  who  buys  our  images,  eh, 
Jucundus  ?" 

"  Well,  Aristo,"  said  the  paterfimiilias,  wliose 
violence  never  lasted  long,  "  if  your  sister's  bright 
eyes  win  back  my  poor  Agellius,  you  will  have  some- 
thing more  to  say  for  yourself  than  at  present,  I  grant." 

"I  see,"  said  Cornelius  gravely,  "I  begin  to  under- 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.      47 

stand  it.  I  could  not  make  ont  why  our  good  host  had 
such  great  fear  for  the  stability  of  Eome.  But  it  is 
one  of  those  things  which  the  experience  of  life  has 
taught  me.  I  have  often  seen  it  in  the  imperial 
city  itself.  Whenever  you  find  a  man  show  special 
earnestness  against  these  fanatics,  depend  on  it  there 
is  something  that  touches  him  personally  in  the 
matter.  There  was  a  very  great  man,  the  present 
riamen  Dialis,  for  whom  I  have  unbounded  respect ; 
for  a  long  time  I  was  at  a  loss  to  conceive  why  a 
person  of  his  weight,  sound,  sensible,  well-judging, 
should  have  such  a  fear  of  the  Christians.  One  day 
he  made  an  oration  against  them  in  the  senate-house; 
he  wanted  to  send  them  to  the  rack.  But  the  secret 
came  out;  the  good  man  was  on  the  rack  himself 
about  his  daughter,  who  persisted  in  calling  herself 
a  Christian,  and  refused  to  paint  her  face,  or  go  to  the 
amphitheatre.  To  be  sure,  a  most  trying  affair  this 
for  the  old  gentleman.  The  venerable  Pater  Patratus, 
too,  what  suppers  he  gave !  a  fine  specimen  of  the 
Lucullus  type ;  yet  he  wns  always  advocating  the 
lictor  and  the  commenfariensis  in  the  instance  of  the 
Christians.  No  wonder;  his  wife  and  son  were  dis- 
gracing him  in  tlie  eyes  of  the  whole  world  by  fre- 
quenting the  miCetings  of  the  Christians.  However, 
1  agree  with  Decius,  they  must  be  put  down.  They 
are  not  formidable,  but  they  are  an  eyesore." 

Here  the  rushing  of  the  water-clock,  which  mea- 
sured time  in  the  neighbouring  square,  ceased,  signify- 
ing thereby  that  the  night  was  getting  on.  Juba  had 
already  crept  into  the  dark  closet  which  served  Iiim 
for  a  sleeping-place  ;  had  taken  off"  his  sandals,  and 
loosened  his  belt ;  had  wrapt  the  serpent  he  had  about 
him  round  his  neck,  and  was  breathing  heavily.  Ju- 
cundus  made  the  parting  libation,  and  Cornelius  took 
his  leave.  Aristo  rose  too ;  and  Jucundus,  accom- 
panying them  to  the  entrance,  paid  the  not  uncommon 
penalty  of  his  potations,  ibr  the  wine  mounted  to  his 
head,   and  he  returned  into  the   room,  and  sat  him 


48  CALLISTA ; 

down  again  with  an  impression  that  Aristo  was  still 
at  table. 

"My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "Agelliiis  is  but  a  wet 
Christian ;  that's  all,  not  obstinate,  like  his  brother 
there.  'T was  his  father;  the  less  we  say  about  him 
the  better ;  he's  gone.  The  Furies  make  his  bed  for 
him !  an  odious  set.  Their  priests,  little  ugly  men. 
I  saw  one  when  I  was  a  boy  at  Carthage.  So  unlike 
your  noble  Eoman  Saliares,  or  your  fine  portly  priest 
of  Isis,  clad  in  white,  breathing  odours,  like  spring 
flowers  ;  men  who  enjoyed  this  life,  not  like  that  sour 
hypocrite.  He  was  as  black  as  an  Ethiopian,  and  as 
withered  as  a  Saracen,  and  he  never  looked  you  in  the 
face.  And,  after  all,  the  fellow  must  die  for  his  reli- 
gion, rather  than  put  a  few  grains  of  golden  incense 
on  the  altar  of  great  Jove.  Jove's  the  god  for  me ; 
a  glorious,  handsome,  curly  god ; — but  they  are  all 
good  ;  all  the  gods  are  good.  There's  Bacchus,  he's  a 
good,  comfortable  god,  though  a  sly,  treacherous  fel- 
low,— a  treacherous  fellow.  There's  Ceres  too ;  Po- 
mona ;  the  Muses ;  Astarte  too,  as  they  call  her  here ; 
all  good ;— and  Apollo,  though  he's  somewhat  too  hot  in 
this  season,  and  too  free  with  his  bow.  He  gave  me  a 
bad  fever  once.  Ah !  life's  precious,  most  precious ; 
so  I  felt  it  then,  when  I  was  all  but  gone  to  Pluto. 
Life  never  returns;  it's  like  water  spilt;  you  can't 
gather  it  up.  It  is  dispersed  into  the  elements,  to 
the  four  winds.  Ah !  there's  something  more  there 
than  I  can  tell ;  more  than  all  your  philosophers  can 
determine." 

He  seemed  to  think  awhile,  and  began  again: 
"  Enjoyment's  the  great  rule  ;  ask  yourself,  '  Have  I 
made  the  most  of  things?'  that's  what  I  say  to  the 
rising  generation.  Many  and  many's  the  time  when 
I  have  not  turned  them  to  the  best  account.  O  !  if  I 
had  now  to  begin  life  again,  how  many  things  should  I 
correct !  I  might  have  done  better  this  evening. 
Those  abominable  pears !  I  miglit  have  known  they 
would  not  be  worth  the  eating.     INIutton,  that  was  all 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      49 

well ;  doves,  good  again ;  crane,  kid  ;  ^Yell,  I  don't  see 
that  I  could  have  done  much  better." 

After  a  few  minutes  he  got  up  half  asleep,  and  put 
out  all  the  lights  but  one  small  lamp,  with  which  he 
made  his  way  into  his  own  bed-closet.  "  All  is  vanity," 
he  continued  with  a  slow,  grave  utterance,  "all  13 
vanity  but  eating  and  drinking.  It  does  not  pay  to 
serve  tlic  gods,  except  for  this.  AYhat's  fame  ?  what's 
glory?  what's  power?  smoke.  I've  often  thought 
the  hog  is  the  only  really  wise  animal.  AVe  should 
be  happier  if  we  were  all  hogs.  Hogs  keep  the  end  of 
life  steadily  in  view ;  that's  why  those  toads  of  Chris- 
tians will  not  eat  them,  lest  they  should  get  like  them. 
Quiet,  respectable,  sensible  enjoyment;  not  riot,  or 
revel,  or  excess,  or  quarrelling.  Life  is  short."  And. 
with  this  undeniable  sentiment  he  fell  asleep. 


50  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  VII. 

N'ext  morning,  as  Jucundns  was  dusting  a-nd  polisli- 
iiig  his  statues  and  other  articles  of  taste  and  devotion, 
supplying  the  gaps  in  their  ranks,  and  grouping  a 
number  of  new  ones  which  had  come  in  from  his  work- 
men, Juba  strutted  into  the  shop,  and  indulged  him- 
self from  time  to  time  in  an  inward  laugh  or  snigger 
at  the  various  specimens  of  idolatry  which  grinned,  or 
frowned,  or  frisked,  or  languished  on  all  sides  of  him. 

"Don't  sneer  at  that  Anubis,"  said  his  uncle;  "it 
is  the  work  of  the  divine  Callista." 

"  That,  I  suppose,  is  why  she  brings  into  existence 
so  many  demons,"  answered  Juba;  "nothing  more 
can  be  done  in  the  divine  line ;  like  the  queen  who  fell 
in  loA'e  with  a  baboon." 

"  Now  I  come  to  think,"  retorted  Jucundus,  "  that 
god  of  hers  is  something  like  you.  She  must  be  in 
love  with  you,  Juba." 

The  youth,  as  was  usual  with  him,  tossed  his  head 
with  an  air  of  lofty  displeasure  ;  at  length  he  said, 
"  And  why  should  she  not  fall  in  love  with  me, 
pray?" 

"  Why,  because  you  are  too  good  or  too  bad  to 
need  her  plastic  hand.  She  could  not  make  any  thing 
out  of  you.  'Non  ex  quovis  ligno '.'  But  she'd  be 
doing  a  good  work  if  she  wiled  back  your  brother." 

*  "  You  cannot  make  a  silk  purse,"  &c. 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIEI)  CEXTUET.      51 

^^  He  does  not  want  wiling  any  more  than  I,"  said 
Juba,  "/dare  say!  he's  no  Christian." 

"  AYhat's  that?"  said  his  uncle,  looking  round  at 
him  in  surprise  ;  "  Agellius  no  Christian  ?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  answered  Juba;  "rest  assured. 
I  taxed  him  with  it  only  last  night ;  let  him  alone, 
he'll  come  round.  He's  too  proud  to  change,  that's  all. 
Preach  to  him,  entreat  him,  worry  him,  try  to  turn 
him,  work  at  the  bit,  whip  him,  and  he  will  turn  res- 
tive, start  aside,  or  run  away ;  but  let  him  have  his 
head,  pretend  not  to  look,  seem  indifferent  to  the 
whole  matter,  and  he  will  quietly  sit  down  in  the 
midst  of  your  images  there.  Callista  has  an  easy  task ; 
she'll  bribe  him  to  do  what  he  would  else  do  for 
nothing." 

"  The  very  best  news  I  have  heard  since  your  silly  old 
father  died,"  cried  Jucundus;  "  the  very  best, — if  true. 
Juba,  I'll  give  you  a  handsome  present  the  first  sow 
your  brother  sacrifices  to  Ceres.  Ha,  ha,  what  fine  fun 
to  see  the  young  farmer  over  his  cups  at  the  Xundinse  ! 
I  could  teach  the  boy  a  trick  or  two.  Ha,  ha !  no 
Christian  !  bravo,  Juba  !  I'll  make  you  a  present,  an 
Apollo  to  teach  you  manners,  or  a  Mercury  to  give 
you  wit." 

"It's  quite  true,"  said  Juba,  "he  would  not  be 
thinking  of  Callista,  if  he  were  thinking  of  his  sahits 
and  angels." 

"Ha,  ha!  to  be  sure!"  returned  Jucundus;  "to 
be  sure !  yet  why  shouldn't  he  worship  a  handsome 
Greek  girl  as  well  as  any  of  those  mummies  and 
death's  heads  and  bogies  of  his,  which  I  should  blush 
to  put  up  here  alongside  even  of  Anubis  or  a  scara- 
bseus?" 

"  Mother  thinks  she  is  not  altogether  the  girl  you 
take  her  for,"  said  his  nephew. 

"  jSTo  matter,  no  matter,"  answered  Jucundus,  "  no 
matter  at  all ;  she  may  be  a  Lais  or  Phryne  for  me ; 
the  surer  to  make  a  man  of  him." 
e2 


52  CALLISTA  ; 

"Why,"  said  Juba,  "mother  thinks  her  head  is 
turning  in  the  opposite  way.  D'you  see  ?  Strange, 
isn't  it?"  he  added,  annoyed  himself,  yet  not  unvvili- 
ing  to  annoy  his  uncle. 

"Hm!"  exclaimed  Jucundus,  making  a  Avry  face, 
as  if  to  say,  '•  What  on  earth  is  going  to  turn  up 
now?" 

"  To  tell  the  truth,"  said  Juba  gloomily,  "  I  did 
once  think  of  her  myself.  I  don't  see  why  I  have  not 
as  much  right  to  do  so  as  Agellius,  if  I  please.  So  I 
thought  old  mother  might  do  something  for  me  ;  and 
I  asked  her  for  a  charm  or  love-potion,  which  would 
bring  her  from  her  brother  down  to  the  forest  yonder. 
Gurta  took  to  it  kindly,  for  she  has  a  mortal  hatred  of 
Callista,  because  of  her  good  looks,  though  she  won't 
say  so,  and  because  she's  a  Greek  ;  and  she  liked  the 
notion  of  humbling  the  haughty  minx.  So  she  began 
one  of  the  most  tremendous  spells,"  he  shrieked  out 
with  a  laugh,  "  one  of  the  most  tremendous  spells  in 
her  whole  budget.  All  and  every  thing  in  the  most 
exact  religious  way :  wine,  milk,  blood,  meal,  wax,  old 
rags,  gods,  Numidian  as  well  as  Punic ;  such  names ; 
one  must  be  barbarian  to  boot,  as  well  as  witch,  to 
pronounce  them  :  a  score  of  things  there  were  besides. 
And  then  to  see  the  old  woman,  with  her  streaming 
grey  hair,  twinkling  eyes,  and  grim  look,  twirl  about 
as  some  flute-girl  at  a  banquet;  it  was  enough  to  dance 
down,  not  only  the  moon,  but  the  whole  milkj^  ^^''^J' 
But  it  did  not  dance  down  Callista :  at  which  mother 
got  savage,  and  protested  that  Callista  was  a  Christian." 

Jucundus  looked  much  perplexed.  "  Medius  fidius  !" 
he  said,  "whj^,  unless  we  look  sharp,  she  will  be 
converting  him  the  wrong  way;"  and  he  began  pacing 
up  and  down  the  small  room. 

Juba  on  his  part  began  singing : 

"  Gurta  the  witch  would  have  part  in  the  jest ; 
Tho'  lame  as  a  gull,  by  his  highness  possessed, 
She  shouldered  her  cratch,  and  danced  with  the  rest. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      63 

"  Sporting  and  snorting,  deep  in  the  night, 
Their  beards  flashing  fire,  and  their  hoofs  striking  licht, 
And  their  tails  whisking  round  in  the  heat  of  their  flight." 

Bj  this  time  Jucundus  had  recovered  from  the 
quahn  which  Jiiba's  intelligence  had  caused  him,  and 
he  cried  out,  "  Cease  your  rubbish  ;  old  Gurta's  jea- 
lous;  I  know  her  spite;  Christian  is  the  most  black- 
guard word  in  her  vocabulary,  it's  Barbar  for  toad  or 
adder.  I  see  it  all ;  no,  Callista,  the  divine  Callista, 
must  take  in  hand  this  piece  of  wax,  sing  a  charm,  and 
mould  him  into  a  Vertumnus.  She'll  show  herself 
the  more  potent  witch  of  the  two.  The  new  emperor 
too  will  help  the  incantation." 

"  AVhat  ?  something  is  coming  ?  "  asked  Juba  with  a 
grin. 

"  Cominp:,  boy  ?  yes,  I  warrant  you,"  answered  his 
uncle.  "  Well  make  them  squeak.  If  gentle  means 
don't  do,  then  we'll  just  throw  in  another  ingredient 
or  two ;  a  sword,  or  a  wild  cat,  or  a  firebrand." 

"  Take  care  what  you  are  about,  if  you  deal  with 
Agellius,"  said  Juba.  "He's  a  sawney,  but  you  must 
Bot  drive  him  to  bay.  Don't  threaten,  keep  to  the 
other  line  ;  he's  weak-hearted." 

"  Only  as  a  background  to  bring  out  the  painting; 
the  Muse  singing,  all  in  light,  relieved  by  sardix  or  sepia. 
It  must  come  ;  but  perhaps  Agellius  will  come  first." 

It  was  indeed  as  Jucundus  had  hinted  ;  a  new  policy, 
a  new  era  was  coming  upon  Christianity,  together 
with  the  new  emperor.  Christians  had  hitherto  been 
for  the  most  part  the  objects  of  popular  fury  rather 
than  of  imperial  jealousy.  Nero,  indeed,  from  his  very 
love  of  cruelty  had  taken  pleasure  in  torturing  them  ; 
but  statesmen  and  philosophers,  though  at  times  per- 
plexed and  inconsistent,  yet  on  the  whole  had  de- 
spised them  ;  and  the  superstition  of  priests  and  peo- 
ple, with  their  "  Christianos  ad  leones,"  had  been  the 
most  formidable  enemy  of  the  faith.  Accordingly, 
atrocious  as  the  persecution  had  been  at  times,  it  had 


54  CALLISTA  ; 

been  conducted  on  no  plan,  and  had  been  local  and 
fitful.  But  BA'en  this  trial  bad  been  suspended,  with 
but  few  interruptions,  during  the  last  thirty,  nay  fifty 
years.  So  favourable  a  state  of  things  had  been  more 
or  less  brought  about  by  a  succession  of  emperors, 
who  had  shown  an  actual  leaning  to  Cinnstianity. 
"While  the  vigorous  rule  of  the  five  good  emperors,  as 
they  are  called,  had  had  many  passages  in  its  history 
of  an  adverse  character,  those  who  followed  after, 
being  untaught  in  the  traditions,  and  strangers  to  the 
spirit,  of  old  Home,  foreigners,  or  adventurers,  or  sen- 
suahsts,  were  protectors  of  the  new  religion.  The 
favourite  mistress  of  Commodus  is  even  said  to  have 
been  a  Christian;  so  is  the  nurse  of  Caracalla.  The 
wretched  lleliogabalus,  by  his  taste  for  Oriental  super- 
stitions, both  weakened  the  influence  of  the  establish- 
ed hierarchy,  and  encouraged  a  toleration  of  a  faith 
which  came  from  Palestine.  The  virtuous  Alexander, 
Avho  followed  him,  was  a  philosopher  more  than  a 
statesman  ;  and,  in  pursuance  of  the  syncretism  which 
he  had  adopted,  placed  the  images  of  Abraham  and 
our  Lord  among  the  objects  of  devotion  which  his 
private  chapel  contained.  AVhat  is  told  us  of  the 
Emperor  Philip  is  still  more  to  the  point:  the  gravest 
authorities  report  that  he  was  actually  a  Christian ; 
and,  since  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  Christians  were 
persuaded  of  the  fact,  the  leaning  of  his  government 
must  have  been  emphatically  in  their  favour  to  account 
for  such  a  belief  In  consequence  Christians  showed 
themselves  without  fear ;  they  emerged  from  the  cata- 
combs, and  built  churches  in  public  view;  and,  though 
in  certain  localities,  as  in  the  instance  of  Africa,  they 
had  suffered  from  the  contact  of  the  world,  they  spread 
far  and  wide,  and  faith  became  the  instrument  at  least 
of  political  power,  even  where  it  was  wanting  in  charity, 
or  momentarily  disowned  by  cowardice.  In  a  word, 
though  Celsus  a  hundred  years  before  had  pronounced 
"a  man  weak  who  should  hope  to  unite  the  three 
portions  of  the  earth  in  a  common  religion,"  that  com- 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      55 

mon  Catholic  faith  had  been  found,  and  a  principle  of 
empire  was  created  which  had  never  before  existed. 
The  phenomenon  could  not  be  mistaken ;  and  the 
Roman  statesman  saw  he  had  to  deal  with  a  rival. 
Nor  must  we  suppose,  because  on  the  surface  of  the 
history  we  read  so  much  of  the  vicissitudes  of  imperial 
power,  and  of  the  profligacy  of  its  possessors,  that  the 
fabric  of  government  was  not  sustained  by  traditions 
of  the  strongest  temper,  and  by  officials  of  the  highest 
sagacity.  It  was  the  age  of  lawyers  and  politicians ; 
and  they  saw  more  and  more  clearly  that  if  Chris- 
tianity was  not  to  revolutionize  the  empire,  they  must 
follow  out  tlie  line  of  action  which  Trajan  and  Anto- 
nine  had  pointed  out. 

Decius  then  had  scarcely  assumed  the  purple,  when 
he  commenced  that  new  policy  against  the  Church 
which  it  was  reserved  to  Diocletian,  fifty  years  later, 
to  carry  out  to  its  own  final  refutation.  He  entered 
on  his  power  at  the  end  of  the  year  249  ;  and  on  the 
January  20th  following,  the  day  on  which  the  Church 
still  celebrates  the  event,  St.  I'abius,  bishop  of  Eome, 
obtained  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  He  had  been 
pope  for  the  unusually  long  space  of  fourteen  years, 
having  been  elected  in  consequence  of  one  of  those 
remarkable  interpositions  of  Divine  Providence  of 
which  we  now  and  then  read  in  the  first  centuries  of 
the  Church.  He  had  come  up  to  Kome  from  the 
country,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the  election  of  a 
successor  to  Pope  Auteros.  A  dos^e  was  seen  to 
settle  on  his  head,  and  the  assembly  rose  up  and  forced 
him,  to  his  surprise,  upon  the  episcopal  throne.  After 
bringing  back  the  relics  of  St.  Pontian,  his  martyred 
predecessor,  from  Sardinia,  and  having  become  the 
apostle  of  great  part  of  Gaul,  he  seemed  destined  to 
end  his  history  in  the  same  happy  quiet  and  obscurity 
in  which  he  had  lived;  but  it  did  not  become  a  pope 
of  that  primitive  time  to  die  upon  his  bed,  and  he  was 
reserved  at   length  to  inaugurate    in    his    own   per- 


56  CALLISTA ; 

son,  as  chief  pastor  of  the  Church,  a  fresh  company  of 
martyrs. 

Suddenly  an  edict  appeared  for  the  extermination  of 
the  name  and  religion  of  Christ.  It  was  addressed  to 
the  proconsuls  and  other  governors  of  provinces ;  and 
alleged  or  implied  that  the  emperors,  Decius  and  his 
son,  being  determined  to  give  peace  to  their  subjects, 
found  the  Christians  alone  an  impediment  to  the  ful- 
filment of  their  purpose ;  and  that,  by  reason  of  the 
enmity  those  sectaries  entertained  against  the  gods 
of  Kome, — an  enmity  which  was  bringing  down  upon 
the  world  multiplied  misfortunes.  Desirous,  then, 
above  all  things,  of  appeasing  their  anger,  they  made 
an  irrevocable  ordinance  that  every  Christian,  without 
exception  of  rank,  sex,  or  age,  should  be  obliged  to 
sacrifice.  Those  who  refused  were  to  be  thrown  into 
prison,  and  in  the  first  instance  submitted  to  moderate 
punishments.  If  they  conformed  to  the  established 
religion,  they  were  to  be  rewarded ;  if  not,  they  were 
to  be  drow3:ied,  burned  alive,  exposed  to  the  beasts, 
hung  upon  the  trees,  or  otherwise  put  to  death.  This 
edict  was  read  in  the  Camp  of  the  prcetorians,  posted 
up  in  the  Capitol,  and  sent  over  the  empire  by  govern- 
ment couriers.  The  authorities  in  each  province  were 
threatened  themselves  with  heavy  penalties,  if  they 
did  not  succeed  in  frightening  or  tormenting  the 
Christians  into  the  profession  of  paganism. 

St.  Fabius,  as  we  have  said,  was  the  firstfruits  of 
the  persecution,  and  eighteen  months  passed  belbre  his 
successor  could  be  appointed.  lu  the  course  of  the 
next  two  months  St.  Pionius  was  burned  alive  at 
Smyrna,  and  St.  Nestor  crucified  in  Pamphylia.  At 
Carthage  some  perplexity  and  delay  were  occasioned 
by  the*  absence  of  the  proconsul.  St.  Cyprian,  its 
bishop,  took  advantage  of  the  delay,  and  retii-ed  into 
a  place  of  concealment.  The  populace  had  joined 
with  the  imperial  government  in  seeking  his  life, 
and  had  cried  out  furiously  in  the  circus,  demanding 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIKD  CENTUBT.      67 

him  "adleonem,"  for  the  lion.  A  panic  seized  the 
Christian  bod}'^,  and  for  a  while  there  were  far  more 
persons  found  to  compromise  their  faith  than  confess 
it.  It  seemed  as  if  Aristo's  anticipation  was  justified, 
that  Christianity  was  losing  its  hold  upon  the  mind 
of  its  subjects,  and  that  nothing  more  was  needed  for 
those  who  feared  it,  than  to  let  it  die  a  natural  death. 
And  at  Sicca  the  Koman  officials,  as  far  as  ever  they 
dared,  seemed  to  act  on  this  view.  Here  Christians 
did  no  harm,  tliey  made  no  show,  and  there  was  little 
or  nothing  in  the  place  to  provoke  the  anger  of  the 
mob  or  to  necessitate  the  interference  of  the  magis- 
trate. The  proconsul's  absence  from  Carthage  vras 
both  an  encouragement  and  an  excuse  for  delay  ;  and 
hence  it  was  that,  though  we  are  towards  the  middle 
of  the  year  250,  and  the  edict  was  published  at  liome 
at  its  commencement,  the  good  people  of  Sicca  had,  as 
we  have  said,  little  knowledge  of  what  was  taking 
place  in  the  political  world,  and  whispered  about  vague 
presages  of  an  intended  measure,  which  had  been  in 
some  places  in  operation  for  many  months.  Com- 
munication with  the  seat  of  government  was  not  very 
frequent  or  rapid  in  those  days,  and  public  curiosity 
had  not  been  stimulated  by  the  facilities  of  gratifying 
it.  And  thus  we  must  account  for  a  phenomenon, 
which  we  uphold  to  be  a  fact  in  the  instance  of  Sicca 
in  the  early  summer  of  a.d.  250,  even  though  it 
prove  unaccountable,  and  history  has  nothing  to  say 
about  it,  and  in  spite  of  the  Acta  Diiirna. 

The  case,  indeed,  is  different  now.  In  these  times, 
newspapers,  railroads,  and  magnetic  telegraphs  make 
us  independent  of  government  messengers.  The  pro- 
ceedings at  Ivorae  would  have  been  generally  and 
accurately  known  in  a  few  seconds ;  and  then,  by  way 
of  urging  on  the  magistracy,  a  question  would  have 
been  asked  in  the  parliament  of  Carthage  by  the 
member  for  Sicca,  or  Laribus,  or  Thugga,  or  by  some  one 
of  the  pagani,  or  country  party,  whether  the  popular 
report  was  true,  that  an  edict  had  been  promulgated 


58  CALLISTA ; 

at  Eome  against  the  Christians,  and  what  steps  had 
been  taken  by  the  local  authorities  throughout  the 
proconsulate  to  carry  out  its  provisions.  And  then 
the  "  Colonia  Siccensis"  would  have  presented  some 
good  or  bad  reason  for  the  delay :  that  it  arose  from 
the  absence  of  the  proconsul  from  the  seat  of  govern' 
ment,  or  from  the  unaccountable  loss  of  the  despatch 
in  its  way  from  the  coast ;  or,  perhaps,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  under-secretary  would  have  maintained 
amid  the  cheers  of  his  supporters  that  the  edict  had 
been  promulgated  and  carried  out  at  Sicca  to  the  full, 
that  crowds  ot  Christians  had  at  once  sacrificed,  and 
that,  in  short,  there  was  no  one  to  punish  ;  assertions 
which  at  that  moment  were  too  likely  to  be  verified 
by  the  event. 

In  truth,  there  were  many  reasons  to  make  the 
magistrates,  both  lloman  and  native,  unwilling  to 
proceed  in  the  matter,  till  they  were  obliged.  No  doubt 
they  one  and  all  detested  Christianity,  and  would 
have  put  it  down,  if  they  could ;  but  the  question  was, 
when  they  came  to  the  point,  ivliat  they  should  put 
down.  If,  indeed,  they  could  have  got  hold  of  the 
ringleaders,  the  bishops  of  the  Church,  they  would 
have  tortured  and  smashed  them  con  amore,  as  3'ou 
■would  kill  a  wasp ;  and  with  the  greater  warmth  and 
satisfaction,  just  because  it  was  so  difficult  to  get  at 
them.  Those  bishops  were  a  set  of  fellows  as  mis- 
chievous as  they  were  cowardly ;  they  would  not  come 
out  and  be  killed,  but  they  sculked  in  the  desert,  and 
hid  in  masquerade.  But  why  should  gentlemen  in 
ofBce,  opulent  and  happy,  set  about  worrying  a  hand- 
ful of  idiots,  old,  or  poor,  or  boys,  or  women,  or  ob- 
scure, or  amiable  and  well  meaning ;  who  were  but  the 
remnant  of  a  former  generation,  and  as  little  con- 
nected with  the  fanatics  of  Carthage,  Alexandria,  or 
Home,  as  the  English  freemasons  with  their  name- 
sakes on  the  Continent  ?  True,  Christianity  was  a 
secret  society,  and  an  illegal  religion;  but  would  it 
cease  to  be  so  when   those  harmless  or  respectable 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTITET.  59 

inhabitants   of  tlic  place  had   been  mounted  on  the 
rack  or  the  gibbet  ? 

And  then,  too,  it  was  a  most  dangerous  thing  to  ^ 
open  the  door  to  popular  excitement; — who  would  be 
able  to  shut  it  ?  Once  rouse  the  populace,  and  it  was 
all  over  with  the  place.  It  could  not  be  denied  that 
the  bigoted  and  ignorant  majority,  not  only  of  the 
common  people,  but  of  the  better  classes,  was  steeped 
in  a  bitter  prejudice,  and  an  intense,  though  latent, 
hatred  of  Christianity.  Besides  the  antipathy  which 
arose  from  the  extremely  different  views  of  life  and 
duty  taken  by  pagans  and  Christians,  which  would 
create  a  natural  impulse  of  persecution  in  the  hearts 
of  the  former,  there  were  the  many  persons  who 
wished  to  curry  favour  at  Eome  with  the  court,  and 
had  an  eye  to  preferment  or  reward.  There  was  the 
pagan  interest,  extended  and  powerful,  of  that  numer- 
ous class  which  was  attached  to  the  established  reli- 
gion by  habit,  position,  interest,  or  the  prospeet  of 
advantage.  There  were  all  the  great  institutions  or 
establishments  of  the  place  ;  the  law  courts,  the  schools 
of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  the  philosophic  exedrcB  and 
lecture-rooms,  the  theatre,  the  amphitheatre,  the  mar- 
ket,— all  were,  for  one  reason  or  another,  opposed  to 
Christianity ;  and  who  could  tell  where  they  would 
stop  in  their  onward  course,  if  they  were  set  in  mo- 
tion ?  "  Quieta  non  movenda^"  was  the  motto  of  the 
local  government,  native  and  imperial,  and  that  the 
more,  because  it  was  an  age  of  revolutions,  and  they 
might  be  most  unpleasantly  compromised  or  embar- 
rassed by  the  direction  the  movement  took.  Besides, 
Decius  was  not  immortal ;  in  the  last  twelve  years 
eight  emperors  had  been  cut  off,  six  of  them  in  a  few 
months ;  and  who  could  tell  but  the  successor  of  the 
present  might  revert  to  the  policy  of  Philip,  and  feel 
no  thanks  to  those  \rho  had  suddenly  left  it  for  a 
policy  of  blood  ? 

2  "  What  is  at  rest  must  not  be  disturbed." 


60  CALLISTA ; 

In  this  cautious  course  they  would  be  powerfully- 
supported  by  the  influence  of  personal  considerations. 
♦  The  Eoman  ojficia,  the  city  magistrates,  the  heads  of 
the  established  religion,  the  lawyers,  and  the  philoso- 
phers, all  would  have  punished  the  Christians,  if  they 
could;  but  they  could  not  agree  whom  to  punish. 
They  would  have  agreed  with  great  satisfaction,  as  we 
have  said,  to  inflict  condign  and  capital  punishment 
upon  the  heads  of  the  sect ;  and  they  would  have  had 
no  objection,  if  driven  to  do  something,  to  get  hold  of 
some  strangers  or  slaves,  who  might  be  a  sort  of  scape- 
goats for  the  rest ;  but  it  was  impossible,  when  they 
once  began  to  persecute,  to  make  distinctions,  and 
not  a  few  of  them  had  relations  who  were  Christians, 
or  at  least  were  on  that  borderland  which  the  mob 
might  mistake  for  the  domain  of  Christianity, — Mar- 
cionites,  Tertullianists,  Montanists,  or  Gnostics.  "When 
once  the  cry  of  "the  gods  of  Kome"  was  fairly  up, 
it  would  apply  to  tolerated  religions  as  well  as  illicit, 
and  an  unhappy  votary  of  Iwsis  or  Mithras  might  suffer, 
merely  because  there  were  few  Christians  forthcoming. 
The  duumvir  of  the  place  had  a  daughter  whom  he 
had  turned  out  of  his  house  for  receiving  baptism,  and 
who  had  taken  refuge  at  Vacca.  Several  of  the  decu- 
rions,  the  tahularius  oi  the  district,  the  scriba,  one  of 
the  exactors,  who  lived  in  Sicca ;  various  of  the  retired 
gentry,  whom  we  spoke  of  in  a  former  chapter ;  and 
various  attaches  of  the  prsetorium,  were  in  not  dis- 
similar circumstances.  Nay,  the  priest  of  Esculapius 
had  a  wife,  whom  he  was  very  fond  of,  who,  though 
she  promised  to  keep  quiet,  if  things  continued  as 
they  were,  nevertheless  had  the  madness  to  vow  that, 
if  there  were  any  severe  proceedings  instituted  against 
her  people,  she  would  at  once  come  forward,  confess 
herself  a  Christian,  and  throw  water,  instead  of  in- 
cense, upon  the  sacrificial  flame.  Not  to  speak  of  the 
venerable  man's  tenderness  for  her,  such  an  exposure 
would  seriously  compromise  his  respectability,  and,  as 
he  was  infirm  and  apoplectic,  it  was  a  question  whe- 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      61 

ther  Esculapius  himself  could  save  lilm  from  the  sliock 
which  would  be  the  consequence. 

The  same  sort  of  feeling  operated  with  our  good 
friend  Jucundus.  He  was  attached  to  his  nephew; 
but,  be  it  said  without  disrespect  to  him,  he  was  more 
attached  to  his  .reputation ;  irnd  while  he  would  have 
been  seriously  annoyed  at  seeing  Agellius  exposed  to 
one  of  the  panthers  of  the  neighbouring  forest,  or 
hung  up  by  the  feet,  with  the  blood  streaming  from 
his  nose  and  mouth,  as  owe  of  the  dogs  or  kids  of  the 
market,  he  would  have  disliked  the  eclat  of  the  thing 
still  more.  He  felt  both  anger  and  alarm  at  the 
prospect ;  he  was  conscious  he  did  not  understand  his 
nephew,  or  (to  use  a  common  phrase)  know  where  to 
find  him.  He  was  aware  that  a  great  deal  of  tact  was 
necessary  to  manage  him  ;  and  he  had  an  instinctive 
feeling  that  Juba  was  right  in  saying  that  it  would 
not  do  to  threaten  him  with  the  utmost  severity  of 
the  law.  He  considered  Callista's  hold  on  him  was 
the  most  promising  quarter  of  the  horizon;  so  he 
came  to  a  resolution  to  do  as  little  as  he  could  per- 
sonally, but  to  hold  Agellius's  head,  as  far  as  he  could, 
steadily  in  the  direction  of  that  lady,  and  to  see  what 
came  of  it.  As  to  Juba's  assurance  that  Agellius 
was  not  a  Christian  at  heart,  it  w^as  too  good  news  to 
be  true ;  but  still  it  might  be  only  an  anticipation  of 
what  w^ould  be,  when  the  sun  of  Greece  shone  out 
upon  him,  and  dispersed  the  remaining  mists  of  Orien- 
tal superstition. 

In  this  state  of  mind  the  old  gentleman  determined 
one  afternoon  to  leave  his  shop  to  the  care  of  a  slave ; 
and  to  walk  down  to  his  nephew,  to  judge  for  himself 
of  his  state  of  mind ;  to  bait  his  hook  with  Callista, 
and  to  see  if  Agellius  bit.  There  was  no  time  to  be 
lost,  for  the  publication  of  the  edict  might  be  made 
any  day;  and  then  disasters  might  ensue  which  no 
skill  could  remedy. 


CAILISTa; 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JI:cu^'DUS  tlien  set  out  to  see  how  the  land  lay  with 
his  nephew,  and  to  do  what  he  could  to  prosper  the 
tillage.  His  way  led  him  hy  the  Temple  of  Mercury, 
which  at  that  time  subserved  the  purpose  of  a  boys' 
school,  and  was  connected  with  some  academical 
buildings,  the  property  of  the  city,  which  lay  beyond 
it.  It  cannot  be  said  that  our  friend  was  any  warm, 
patron  of  literature  or  education,  though  he  had  not 
neglected  the  schooling  of  his  nephews.  Letters 
seemed  to  him  in  fact  to  unsettle  the  mind ;  and  he 
had  never  known  much  good  come  of  them.  Ehetori- 
cians  and  philosophers  did  not  know  where  they  stood, 
or  what  were  their  bearings.  They  did  not  know  what 
they  held,  and  what  they  did  not.  He  knew  his  own 
position  perfectly  well,  and,  though  the  words  "  be- 
lief "  or  "  knowledge  "  did  not  come  into  his  religious 
vocabulary,  he  could  at  once,  without  hesitation,  state 
what  he  professed  and  maintained.  He  stood  upon 
the  established  order  of  things,  on  the  traditions  of 
Home,  and  the  laws  of  the  empire  ;  but  as  to  Greek 
sophists  and  declaimers,  he  thought  very  much  as  old 
Cato  did  about  them.  The  Greeks  were  a  very  clever 
people,  unrivalled  in  the  fine  arts ;  let  them  keep  to 
their  strong  point;  they  were  inimitable  with  the 
chisel,  the  brush,  the  trowel,  and  the  fingers;  bat 
he  was  not  prepared  to  think  much  of  their  calamus 
or  stylus,  poetry  excepted.     What  did  they  ever  do 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    TRIED    CENTIIE.r.  63 

but  subvert  received  principles  without  substituting 
any  others  r  And  then  they  were  so  likely  to  take 
some  odd  turn  themselves  ;  you  never  could  be  sure  of 
them.  Socrates,  their  patriarch,  what  was  he  after  all 
but  a  culprit,  a  convict,  who  had  been  obliged  to  drink 
hemlock,  dying  under  the  hands  of  justice  ?  Was  this  a 
reputable  end,  a  respectable  commencement  of  the  phi- 
losophic family  ?  It  was  very  well  for  Plato  or  Xeno- 
phon  to  throw  a  veil  of  romance  over  the  transaction, 
but  this  was  the  plain  matter  of  fact.  Then  Anaxa- 
goras  had  been  driven  out  of  Athens  for  his  revolu- 
tionary notions  ;  and  Diogenes  had  been  accused,  like 
the  Christians,  of  atheism.  The  case  had  been  the 
same  in  more  recent  times.  There  had  been  that 
madman,  xVpollonius,  roaming  about  the  world  ;  Apu- 
kius,  too,  their  neighbour,  fifty  years  before,  a  man 
of  respectable  station,  a  gentleman,  but  a  follower  of 
the  Greek  philosophy,  a  dabbler  in  magic,  and  a  pre- 
tender to  miracles.  Other^j  straggled  off  to  Chris- 
tianity, as  in  their  own  country,  Minucius,  a  contem- 
porary of  Apuleius,  or  thereabout.  Such,  too,  had 
been  his  friend  Octavius  ;  such  Csecilius,  who  even 
became  one  of  the  priests  of  the  sect,  and  seduced 
others  from  the  religion  he  had  left.  One  of  them 
had  been  the  public  talk  for  several  years,  and  he 
too  originally  a  rhetorician,  Thascius  Cyprianus  of 
Carthage,  It  was  the  one  thing  which  gave  him  some 
misgiving  about  that  little  Callista,  that  she  was  a 
Greek. 

As  he  passed  the  temple,  the  metal  plate  was 
sounding  as  a  signal  for  the  termination  of  the 
school,  and  on  looking  towards  the  portico  with  an 
ill-natured  curiosity,  he  saw  a  young  acquaintance 
of  his,  a  youth  of  about  twenty,  coming  out  of  it, 
leading  a  boy  of  about  half  that  age,  with  his  satchel 
thrown  over  his  shoulder. 

"  AV'ell,  Arnobius',''  be  cried,  "how  does  rhetoric 

^  Here  is  an  anachronism  of  some  twenty  or  thirty  years. 


64  CALLTSTA ; 

proceed?  are  we  to  take  the  law  line,  or  turn  pro- 
fessor ?     AVho's  the  boy,  some  younger  brother  ?" 

"I've  taken  pity  on  the  little  fool,"  answered 
Arnobius ;  "these  schoolmasters  are  a  savage  breed. 
I  suffered  enough  from  them  myself,  and  '  miseris 
succurrere  disco  ■'.'  So  I  took  him  from  under  the 
roof  of  friend  Rupilius,  and  he's  under  my  tutelage. 
How  did  he  treat  thee,  boy  ?  " 

"  He  treated  me  like  a  slave  or  a  Christian,"  an- 
swered he. 

"  He  deserved  it,  I'll  warrant,"  said  Jucundus ;  "  a 
pert,  forward  imp,  'Twas  Crete  ao^ainst  Briton.  Much 
good  comes  of  schooling.  He's  flippant  already.  Ah, 
the  new  generation !  I  don't  know  where  the  world's 
going." 

"  Tell  the  gentleman,"  said  Arnobius,  "what  he  did 
first  to  you,  my  boy." 

"As  the  good  gentleman  says,"  answered  the  boy, 
"  first  I  did  something  to  him,  and  then  he  did  some- 
thing to  me." 

"  I  told  you  so,"  said  Jucundus ;  "  a  sensible  boy, 
after  all,  but  the  schoolmaster  had  the  best  of  it,  I'll 
wager." 

"  Pirst,"  answered  he,  "  I  grinned  in  his  face,  and 
he  took  off  his  wooden  shoe,  and  knocked  out  one  of 
my  teeth." 

"Good!"  said  Jucundus,  "the  justice  of  Pytha- 
goras. Zaleucus  could  'not  have  done  better.  The 
mouth  sins,  and  the  mouth  suffers." 

"Next,"  continued  he,  "I  talked  in  school-time  to 
my  chum  ;  and  Ilupilius  put  a  gag  in  my  jaws,  and 
kept  them  open  for  an  hour." 

"  The  very  Ehadamanthus  of  schoolmasters,"  cried 
Jucundus ;  "  and  thereupon  you  struck  up  a  chant, 
divine  though  inarticulate,  like  the  statue  of  Mem- 
mon." 

"  Then,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  could  not  say  my  Virgil, 

3  "  I  learn  to  succour  the  wretched." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      G5 

and  he  tore  the  shirt  from  off  my  back,  and  gave  it 
me  with  the  leather." 

"Ay,"  answered  Jucundus,  "'arraa  virurnque' 
branded  on  your  hide." 

"Afterwards  I  ate  his  dinner  for  him,"  continued 
the  boy, "  and  then  he  screwed  my  head,  and  kept  me 
without  food  for  two  days." 

"Your  throat,  you  mean,"  said  Jucundus;  "a 
cautious  man !  lest  you  should  steal  a  draught  or  two 
of  good  strong  air." 

"  And  lastly,"  said  he,  "  I  did  not  bring  my  pence, 
and  then  he  tied  my  hands  to  a  gibbet,  and  hung  me 
up  in  terror  em'"' 

"There  I  came  in,"  said  Arnobius;  "he  seemed  a 
pretty  boy,  so  I  cut  him  down,  paid  his  odra^  and  took 
him  home." 

"  And  now  he  is  your  pupil  ?  "  asked  Jucundus. 

"  Not  yet,"  answered  Arnobius  ;  "  he  is  still  a  day- 
scholar  of  the  old  wolf's ;  one  is  like  another;  he  could 
not  change  for  the  better;  but  I  am  his  bully,  and 
shall  pupilize  him  some  day.  He's  a  sharp  lad,  isn't 
he,  Firmius  ?  "  turning  to  the  boy  ;  "'a  great  hand  at 
composition  for  his  years;  better  than  I  am,  who  never 
shall  write  Latin  decently.  Yet  what  can  I  do  ?  I 
must  profess  and  teach,  for  Eome  is  the  only  place  for 
the  law,  and  these  city  professorships  are  not  to  be 
despised." 

"  Whom  are  you  attending  here  ?  "  asked  Jucundus 
drily. 

"  You  are  the  only  man  in  Sicca  who  needs  to  ask 
the  question.  What !  not  know  the  great  Polemo  of 
Khodes,  the  friend  of  Plotinus,  the  pupil  of  Thea- 
gencs,  the  disciple  of  Thrasyllus,  the  hearer  of  Nico- 
machus,  who  was  of  the  school  of  Secundus,  the  doctor 
of  the  new  Pythagoreans  ?  Not  feel  the  presence  in 
Sicca  of  Polemo,  the  most  celebrated,  the  most  into- 
lerable of  men  ?  That,  however,  is  not  his  title,  but 
the  '  godlike,'  or  the  '  oracular,'  or  the  '  portentous,' 
or  something  else  as  impressive.     Every  one  goes  to 


66  CALLTSTA ; 

him.  He  is  the  rage.  I  should  not  havo  a  chance  of 
success,  if  I  could  not  say  that  1  had  attended  his 
lectures  ;  though  I'd  be  bound  our  little  Tirmius  here 
Would  deliver  as  good.  He's  the  very  cariophylkis  of 
human  nature.  He  comes  to  the  schools  in  a  litter  of 
cedar,  ornamented  \Yith  silver  and  covered  with  a 
lion's  skin,  .slaves  carrying  him,  and  a  crowd  of  friends 
attending,  with  the  state  of  a  proconsul.  He  is 
dressed  in  the  most  exact  style  ;  his  pallium  is  of  the 
finest  wool,  white,  picked  out  with  purple  ;  his  tresses 
flow  with  unguent,  his  fingers  glitter  with  rings,  and 
he  smells  like  Idalium.  As  soon  as  he  puts  foot  on 
earth,  a  great  hubbub  of  congratulation  and  homage 
breaks  forth.  .  He  takes  no  notice ;  his  favourite 
pupils  form  a  circle  round  him,  and  conduct  him  into 
one  of  the  exedrce,  till  the  dial  shows  the  time  for 
lecture.  Here  he  sits  in  silence,  looking  at  nothing, 
or  at -the  wall  opposite  him,  talking  to  himself,  a  hum 
of  admiration  filling  the  room.  Presently  one  of  his 
pupils,  as  if  he  were  pra^co  to  the  duumvir,  cries 
out,  '  Hush,  gentlemen,  hush !  the  godlike  ' — no,  it  is 
not  that.  I've  not  got  it.  "VVliat  25  his  title?  'the 
Bottomless,'  that's  it — 'the  Bottomless  speaks.'  A 
dead  silence  ensues  ;  a  clear  voice  and  a  measured 
elocution  are  the  sure  token  that  it  is  the  outpouring 
of  the  oracle.  '  Pray,'  says  the  little  man,  '  pray, 
which  existed  first,  the  egg  or  the  chick?  Did  the 
chick  lay  the  egg,  op  the  egg  hatch  the  chick  ? ' 
Then  there  ensues  a  whispering,  a  disputing,  and  after 
a  while  a  dead  silence.  At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  or  so,  our  praeco  speaks  again,  and  this  time  to 
the  oracle.  '  Bottomless  nian,'  he  says,  '  I  have  to 
represent  to  you  that  no  one  of  the  present  conipany 
finds  himself  equal  to  answer  the  question  which 
your  condescension  has  proposed  to  our  considera- 
tion.' On  this  there  is  a  fresh  silence,  and  at  length  a 
fresh  effatum  from  tlie  hierophant :  '  Which  comes  first, 
the  egg  or  the  chick  ?  the  egg  comes  first  in  relation 
to  the  causativity  of  the  chick,  and  the  chick  comes 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      67 

first  in  relation  to  the  causativity  of  the  egs:,'  on  ^Yhich 
there  is  a  burst  of  applause  ;  the  ring  of  adorers  is 
broken  through,  and  the  shrinking  professor  is  carried 
in  the  arms  or  on  the  shoulders  of  the  literary  crowd 
to  his  chair  in  the  lecture-room." 

Much  as  there  was  in  Arnobius's  description  which 
gratified  Jucundus's  prejudices,  he  had  suspicions  of 
his  young  acquaintance,  and  was  not  in  the  humour  to 
be  pleased  unreservedly  \Yith  those  who  satirized  any 
thing  whatever  that  was  established,  or  was  appointed 
by  government,  even  affectation.  He  said  something 
about  the  wisdom  of  ages,  the  reverence  duo  to  au- 
thority, the  institutions  of  Rome,  and  the  magistrates 
of  Sicca.  "Do  not  go  after  novelties,"  he  said  to 
ArnobJus  ;  "  make  a  daily  libation  to  Jove,  the  pre- 
server, and  to  the  genius  of  the  emperor,  and  then  let 
other  things  take  their  course." 

"  But  you  don't  mean  I  must  believe  all  this  man 
says,  because  the  decurions  have  put  him  here?" 
cried  Arnobius.  "  Here  is  this  Polemo  saying  that 
Proteus  is  matter,  and  that  minerals  and  vegetables 
are  his  flock ;  that  Proserpine  is  tlie  vital  influence, 
and  Ceres  the  efficacy  of  the  heavenly  bodies ;  that 
there  are  mundane  spirits,  and  supramundane ;  and 
then  his  doctrine  about  triads,  monads,  and  progres- 
sions of  the  celestial  gods  !  " 

"  Hm  ! "  said  Jucundus  ;  "they  did  not  say  so 
when  I  went  to  school ;  but  keep  to  my  rule,  my  bo}^, 
and  swear  by  the  genius  of  Eome  and  the  emperor." 

"I  don't  believe  in  god  or  goddess,  emperor  or 
Eome,  or  in  any  philosophy,  or  in  any  religion  at  all," 
said  Arnobius. 

"AVhat!"  cried  Jucundus,"  you're  not  going  to 
desert  the  gods  of  your  ancestors  ?  " 

"  Ancestors  ?  "  said  Arnobius  ;  "  I've  no  ancestors. 
I'm  not  African  certainly,  not  Punic,  not  Libophoeni- 
cian,  not  Canaanite,  not  Numidian,  not  Ga^tulian.  I'm 
half  Greek,  but  what  the  other  half  is  I  don't  know'. 
My  good  old  gaffer,  you're  one  of  the  old  world.  I 
r2 


68  CALLISTA ; 

believe  nothing.  "Who  can  ?  there  is  such  a  racket 
and  whirl  of  religions  on  all  sides  of  me,  that  I  am  sick 
of  the  subject." 

"  Ah,  the  rising  generation  !  "  groaned  Jucundus  ; 
"  you  young  men  !  1  cannot  prophesy  what  you  will 
become  when  we  old  fellows  are  removed  from  the 
scene.     Perhaps  you're  a  Christian." 

Arnobius  laughed.  "  At  least  I  can  give  you  com- 
fort on  that  head,  old  grandfather.  A  pretty  Chris- 
tian I  should  make,  indeed  !  seeing  visions, to  be  sure, 
and  rejoicing  in  the  rack  and  dungeon!  I  wish  to 
enjoy  life ;  I  see  wealth,  power,  rank,  and  pleasure  to  be 
worth  living  for,  and  I  see  nothing  else." 

""Well  said,  my  lad,"  cried  Jucundus,  "well  said; 
stick  to  that.  I  declare  you  frightened  me.  Give  up 
all  visions,  speculations,  conjectures,  fancies,  novelties, 
discoveries  ;  nothing  comes  of  them  but  confusion." 

"No,  no,"  answered  the  youth ;  "I'm  not  so  wild 
as  you  seem  to  think,  Jucundus.  It  is  true  I  don't 
believe  one  single  word  about  the  gods ;  but  in  their 
worship  was  I  born,  and  in  their  worship  I  will  die." 

"Admirable!"  cried  Jucundus  in  a  transport; 
"  well,  I'm  surprised  ;  you  have  taken  me  by  surprise. 
You're  a  fine  fellow ;  you  are  a  boy  after  my  heart. 
I've  a  good  mind  to  adopt  you." 

"  You  see  I  can't  believe  one  syllable  of  all  the 
priests'  trash,"  said  Arnobius  ;  "  who  does  ?  not  they. 
I  don't  believe  in  Jupiter  or  Juno,  or  in  Astarte  or 
in  Isis  ;  but  where  shall  I  go  for  any  thing  better  ?  or 
why  need  I  seek  any  thing  good  or  bad  in  that  line  ? 
^Nothing's  known  any  where,  and  life  would  go  while 
I  attempted  what  is  impossible.  ISo,  better  stay 
where  I  am  ;  I  may  go  further,  and  gain  a  loss  for  my 
pains.  So  you  see  I  am  for  myself,  and  for  the  genius 
of  Eome. 

"  That's  the  true  ])rinciple,"  answered  the  delighted 
Jucundus ;  "  why  really,  for  so  young  a  man,  sur- 
prising !  Where  did  you  get  so  much  good  sense,  my 
dear  lelloAV?     JT've   seen  very  little  of  you.      Well, 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIRD  CEKTURY.      69 

this  I'll  say,  you're  a  youtli  of  most  mature  miud. 
To  be  sure !  AVell !  ■  Such  youths  are  rare  now-a- 
days.  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heart  on  your 
strong  sense  and  your  admirable  wisdom.  AVho'd 
have  thought  it  ?  I've  always,  to  tell  the  truth,  had 
a.  little  suspicion  of  you  ;  but  you've  come  out  nobly. 
Capital !  I  don't  wish  you  to  believe  in  the  gods,  if 
you  can't ;  but  it's  your  duty,  dear  boy,  your  duty  to 
Kome  to  maintain  them,  and  to  rally  round  them  when 
attacked."  Then  with  a  changed  voice  he  added, 
"  Ah,  that  a  young  friend  of  mine  had  your  view  of 
the  matter!  "  and  then,  fearing  he  had  said  too  much, 
he  stopped  abruptly. 

"You  mean  Agellius,"  said  Arnobius.  "You've 
heard,  by-the-bye,"  he  continued  in  a  lower  tone, 
"what's  the  talk  in  the  capitol,  that  at  'Rome  they 
are  proceeding  on  a  new  plan  against  the  Christians 
with  great  success.  They  don't  put  to  death,  at 
least  at  once  ;  they  keep  in  prison,  and  threaten  the 
torture.     It's  surprising  how  many  come  over." 

"The  Furies  seize  them!"  exclaimed  Jucundus ; 
"  they  deserve  every  thing  bad,  always  excepting  my 
poor  boy.  So  they  are  cheating  the  hangman  by 
giving  up  their  atheism,  the  vile  reptiles,  giving  in  to 
a  threat.  However,"  he  added  gravely,  "  I  wish 
threats  would  answer  with  Agellius  ;  but  I  greatly 
fear  that  menace  would  only  make  him  stubborn. 
That  stubbornness  of  a  Christian!  O  Arnobius," 
be  said,  shaking  his  head  and  looking  solemn,  "  it's 
a  visitation  from  the  gods,  a  sort  of  npnjjJioIejysiaJ^ 

"It's  going  out,"  said  Arnobius,  "mark  my  words; 
the  frenzy  is  dying.  It's  only  wonderful  it  should 
have  lasted  for  three  centuries.  The  report  runs  that 
in  some  places,  when  the  edict  was  published,  the 
Christians  did  not  wait  for  a  summons,  but  swept  up 
to  the  temples  to  sacrifice  like  a  shoal  of  tunnies. 
The  magistrates  were  obliged  to  take  so  many  a  day ; 
and,  as  the  days  went  on,  none  so  eager  to  bring 


70  CALLISTA ; 

over  the  rest  as  those  who  have  already  become  honest 
men.  Nay,  not  a  few  of  their  mystic  or  esoteric  class 
have  conformed." 

"If  so,  unless  Agellius  looks  sharp,"  said  Jucun- 
dus,  "his  sect  will  give  him  up  before  he  gives  up 
his  sect.     Christianity  will  be  converted  before  him." 

"  O,  don't  fear  for  him  !  "  said  Arnobius  ;  "  I  knew 
him  at  school.  Boys  differ ;  some  are  bold  and  open. 
They  like  to  be  men,  and  to  dare  the  deeds  of  men ; 
they  talk  freely,  and  take  their  swing  in  broad  day. 
Others  are  shy,  reserved,  bashful,  and  are  afraid  to  do 
what  they  love  quite  as  much  as  the  others.  AgelUus 
never  could  rub  oft'  this  false  shame,  and  it  has  taken 
this  turn.  He's  sure  to  outgrow  it  in  a  year  or  two. 
I  sliould  not  wonder  if,  when  once  he  had  got  over 
it,  he  went  into  the  opposite  fault.  You'll  find  him 
a  drinker,  and  a  swaggerer,  and  a  spendthrift,  before 
many  years  are  over." 

"  AVell,  that's  good  news,"  said  Jucundus  :  "  I  mean, 
I  am  glad  you  think  he  will  shake  oft"  these  fancies.  I 
don't  believe  they  sit  very  close  to  him  myself." 

He  walked  on  for  a  while  in  silence  ;  then  he 
said, "  That  seems  a  sharp  child,  Arnobius.  Could  he 
do  me  a  service,  if  I  wanted  it  ?  Hoes  he  know 
Agellius  ?  " 

"Know  him?"  answered  the  other;  "yes,  and 
his  farm  too.  He  has  rambled  round  Sicca,  many  is 
the  miile.  And  he  knows  the  short  cuts,  and  the  blind 
ways,  and  safe  circuits." 

"What's  the  boy's  name?  "  asked  Jucundus. 

"  Firmius,"  answered  Arnobius.  "  Eirmius  Lactan- 
tius." 

"I  say,  Firmius,"  said  Jucundus  to  him,  "where 
are  you  to  be  found  of  a  day,  my  boy  ?  " 

"At  class  morning  and  afternoon,"  answered  Fir- 
mius, "sleeping  in  the  porticoes  in  midday,  no 
where  in  the  evening,  and  roosting  with  Arnobius 
at  night." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.      7l 

"  And  can  you  keep  a  secret,  sliould  it  so  happen  ?  '* 
asked  Jucundus,  *'  and  do  an  errand,  if  I  gave  you 
one?" 

"  I'll  give  him  the  stick  worse  than  llupilius,  if  he 
does  not !  "  said  Arnobius. 

"A  bargain,"  cried  Jucundus;  and,  waving  his 
hand  to  them,  he  stept  through  the  city  gate,  and 
they  returned  to  their  afternoon  amusements. 


72  CALLISTA5 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Agellitjs  is  busily  employed  upon  his  farm.  "While 
the  enemies  of  his  faith  are  laying  their  toils  for 
him  and  his  brethren  in  the  imperial  city,  in  the  pro- 
consular qfficium,  and  in  the  nmnicipal  curia;  while 
Jucundus  is  scheming  against  him  personally  in 
another  way  and  with  other  intentions,  the  uncon- 
scious object  of  these  machinations  is  busy  about  his 
master's  crops,  housing  the  corn  in  caves  or  pits,  dis- 
tilling the  roses,  irrigating  the  Mennali,  and  training 
and  sheltering  the  vines.  And  he  does  so,  not  only  from 
a  sense  of  duty,  but  the  more  assiduously,  because  he 
finds  in  constant  employment  a  protection  against  him- 
self, against  idle  thoughts,  wayward  wishes,  discon- 
tent, and  despondency.  It  is  doubtless  very  strange 
to  the  reader  how" any  one  who  professed  himself  a 
Christian  in  good  earnest  should  be  open  to  the  im- 
putation of  resting  his  hopes  and  his  heart  in  the  tents 
of  paganism ;  but  we  do  not  see  why  Agellius  has  not 
quite  as  much  a  right  to  be  inconsistent  in  one  way,  as 
Christians  of  the  present  time  in  another;  and  perhaps 
he  has  more  to  say  for  himself  than  they.  They  have 
not  had  the  trial  of  solitude,  nor  the  consequent  temp- 
tation to  which  he  has  been  exposed,  of  seeking  relief 
from  his  own  thoughts  in  the  company  of  unbelievers. 
"When  a  boy  he  had  received  his  education  at  that 
school  in  the  Temple  of  Mercury  of  which  we  heard 
in  the  foregoing  chapter  ;  and  though  happily  he  had 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIIJD    CEIsTUHr.  73 

preserved  himself  from  the  contagion  of  idolatry  and 
sin,  he  liad  on  that  very  account  formed  no  friendships 
■with  his  schoolfellows.  Whether  there  were  any  Chris- 
tians there  besides  himself,  he  did  not  know  ;  but, 
while  the  worst  of  his  schoolfellows  were  what  heathen 
boys  may  be  supposed  to  be,  the  lightest  censure 
which  could  be  passed  on  any  was  that  they  were 
greedy,  or  quarrelsome,  or  otherwise  unamiable.  He 
had  learned  there  enough  to  open  his  mind,  and  to 
give  him  materials  for  thinking,  and  instruments  for 
reflecting  on  his  own  religion,  and  for  drawing  out 
into  shape  his  own  reflections.  He  had  received  just 
that  discipline  which  makes  solitude  most  pleasant  to 
the  old,  and  most  unsupportable  to  the  young.  He 
had  got  a  thousand  questions  which  needed  answers, 
a  thousand  feelings  which  needed  sympathy.  He 
wanted  to  know  whether  his  guesses,  his  perplexities, 
his  trials  of  mind,  were  peculiar  to  himself,  or  how 
far  they  were  shared  by  others,  and  what  they  were 
worth.  He  had  capabilities  for  intellectual  enjoyment 
unexercised,  and  a  thirst  after  knowledge  unsatisfied. 
And  the  channels  of  supernatural  assistance  were 
removed  from  him  at  a  time  when  nature  was  most 
impetuous  and  most  clamorous. 

It  was  under  circumstances  such  as  these  that  two 
young  Grreeks,  brother  and  sister,  the  brother  older, 
the  sister  younger,  than  Agellius,  came  to  Sicca  at 
the  invitation  of  Jucundus,  who  wanted  them  for  his 
trade.  His  nephew  in  time  got  acquainted  with  them, 
and  found  in  them  what  he  had  sought  in  vain  else- 
where. It  is  not  that  they  were  oracles  of  wisdom,  or 
repositories  of  philosophical  learning ;  their  age  and 
their  calling  forbade  it,  nor  did  he  require  it.  For  aa 
oracle,  of  course,  he  would  have  looked  in  another 
direction ;  but  he  desiderated  something  more  on  a 
level  with  himself,  and  that  they  abundantly  supplied. 
He  found,  from  his  conversations  with  them,  that 
a  great  number  of  the  questions  which  had  been  a 
difficulty  to   him  had   already   been  agitated  in  the 


74 


CALLISTA  : 


schools  of  Greece.  He  found  vi'hat  solutions  ^xere 
possible,  what  the  hinge  was  on  which  questions 
turned,  what  the  issue  to  which  they  led,  and  what 
the  principle  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  them.  He 
began  better  to  understand  the  position  of  Chris- 
tianity in  the  world  of  thought,  and  the  view  which 
was  taken  of  it  by  the  advocates  of  other  religions  or 
philosophies.  He  gained  some  insight  into  its  logic, 
and  advanced,  without  knowing  it,  in  the  investigation 
of  its  evidences. 

Nor  was  this  all ;  he  acquired  by  means  of  his  new 
friends  a  great  deal  also  of  secular  knowledge  as  well 
as  philosophical.  He  learned  much  of  the  history  of 
foreign  countries,  especially  of  Greece ;  of  its  heroes 
and  sages,  its  poets  and  its  statesmen,  of  Alexander, 
of  the  Syro-Macedonic  empire,  of  the  Jews,  and  of  the 
series  of  conquests  through  which  Eome  advanced  to 
universal  dominion. 

To  impart  knowledge  is  as  interesting  as  to  acquire 
it ;  and  Agellius  was  called  upon  to  give  as  well  as  to 
take.  The  brother  and  sister,  without  showing  any 
great  religious  earnestness,  were  curious  to  know 
about  Christianity,  and  listened  with  the  more  pa- 
tience that  they  had  no  special  attachment  to  any 
other  worship.  In  the  debates  which  ensued,  though 
there  was  no  agreement,  there  was  the  pleasure  of 
mental  exercise  and  excitement ;  he  found  enough  to 
tell  them  without  touching  upon  the  more  sacred 
mysteries ;  and  while  he  never  felt  his  personal  faith 
at  all  endangered  by  their  free  conversation,  his 
charity,  or  at  least  his  good  will  and  his  gratitude, 
led  him  to  hope,  or  even  to  think,  that  they  were  in 
the  way  of  conversion  themselves.  In  this  thought 
he  was  aided  by  his  own  innocence  and  simplicity; 
and  though,  on  looking  back  afterwards  to  this  event- 
ful season,  he  recognized  many  trivial  occurrences 
wliich  ought  to  have  put  him  on  his  guard,  yet  he  had 
no  suspicion  at  the  time  that  those  who  conversed  so 
winningly,  and  sustained  so   gracefully  and  happily 


A    SKETCn    or    THE    TIIIRD    CENTURY.  75 

the  commerce  of  thought  find  sentiment,  miglit  in 
their  actual  state,  nay,  in  their  governing  principles, 
be  in  utter  contrariety  to  himself  when  the  veil  was 
removed  from  off  their  hearts. 

jN"or  was  it  in  serious  matters  alone,  but  still  more 
in  lighter  subjects  of  conversation,  that  Aristo  and 
Callista  were  attractive  to  the  solitary  Agellius.  She 
had  a  sweet  thrilling  voice,  and  accompanied  herself 
on  the  lyre.  She  could  act  the  improvisatrice,  and 
her  expressive  features  were  a  running  commentary 
on  the  varied  meaning,  the  sunshine  and  the  shade,  of 
her  ode  or  her  epic.  She  could  relate  how  the  pro- 
fane Peutheus  and  the  self- glorious  Hippolytus  gave 
a  lesson  to  the  world  of  the  feebleness  of  human  vir- 
tue when  it  placed  itself  in  opposition  to  divine 
power.  She  could  teach  how  the  chaste  Diana  mani- 
fests herself  to  the  simple  shepherd  Endymion,  not  to 
the  great  or  learned ;  and  how  Tithonus,  the  spouse  of 
the  Morn,  adumbrates  the  fate  of  those  vrho  revel 
in  their  youth,  as  if  it  were  to  last  for  ever;  and 
who,  when  old,  do  nothing  but  talk  of  the  days  when 
they  were  young,  wearying  others  with  tales  of  "  their 
amours  or  their  exploits,  like  grasshoppers  that  show 
their  vigour  only  by  their  chirping'."  The  very  alle- 
gories which  sickened  and  irritated  Arnobius  when 
spouted  out  by  Polemo,  touched  the  very  chords  of 
poor  Agellius's  heart  when  breathed  fortli  from  the 
lips  of  the  beautiful  Greek. 

She  could  act  also ;  and  suddenly,  when  conversa- 
tion flagged  or  suggested  it,  she  could  throw  herself 
into  the  part  of  Medea  or  Antigone,  with  a  force  and 
truth  which  far  surpassed  the  etlect  produced  by  the 
male  and  masked  representations  of  those  characters 
at  the  theatre.  Brother  and  sister  were  (Edipus  and 
Antigone,  Eiectra  and  Orestes,  Cassandra  and  the 
Chorus.  Once  or  twice  they  attempted  a  scene  in 
Menander;   but   there   w^as    something   which   made 

*  Bacon. 


76  CALLISTA ; 

Agellius  shrink  from  the  comedy,  beautiful  as  it  was, 
and  clever  as  was  the  representation.  Callista  could 
act  Thais  as  truly  as  Iphigenia,  but  Agellius  could 
not  listen  as  composedly.  There  are  certain  most 
delicate  instincts  and  perceptions  in  us,  which  act  as 
first  principles,  and  which,  once  effaced,  can  never, 
except  from  some  supernatural  source,  be  restored  to 
the  mind.  AVhen  men  are  in  a  state  of  nature,  these 
are  sinned  against  and  vanish  very  soon ;  at  so  early  a 
date  in  the  history  of  the  individual,  that  perhaps  he 
does  not  recollect  that  he  ever  possessed  them ;  and 
since,  like  other  first  principles,  thej  are  but  very 
partially  capable  of  proof,  a  general  scepticism  pre- 
vails, both  as  to  their  existence  and  their  truth.  The 
Greeks,  partly  from  the  vivacity  of  their  intellect, 
partly  from  their  passion  for  the  beautiful,  lost  these 
celestial  adumbrations  sooner  than  other  nations. 
AVhen  a  collision  arose  on  such  matters  between 
Agellius  and  his  friends,  Callista  kept  silence;  but 
Aristo  was  not  slow  to  express  his  wonder  that  the 
young  Christian  should  thmk  customs  or  practices 
wrong,  which  in  his  view  of  the  matter  were  as  un- 
blameable  and  natural  as  eating,  drinking,  or  sleeping. 
His  own  face  became  almost  satirical  as  Agellius's 
became  grave :  however,  he  was  too  companionable  and 
good-natured  to  force  another  to  be  happy  in  his  own 
way ;  he  imputed  to  tho  extravagance  of  his  friend's 
religion  what  in  any  but  a  Christian  he  would  have 
called  morose  and  misanthropical;  and  he  bade  his 
sister  ^We  over  representations  which,  instead  of 
enlivening  the  passing  hour,  did  but  inflict  pain. 

This  friendly  intercourse  had  now  gone  on  for  some 
months,  as  the  leisure  of  both  parties  admitted.  Once 
or  twice  brother  and  sister  had  come  to  the  suburban 
farm ;  but  for  the  most  part,  in  spite  of  his  intense 
dislike  of  the  city,  he  had  for  their  sake  threaded  its 
crowded  and  narrow  thoroughfares,  crossed  its  open 
places,  and  presented  himself  at  their  apartments. 
And  was  it  very  strange   that   a  youth,  so   utterly 


A    SEETCH    O^    THE    THIRD    CE:N-TTTIIT.  77 

Ignorant  of  the  world,  and  nnsuspicions  of  evil,  should 
not  have  heard  the  warning  voice  wliich  called  him  to 
separate  himself  from  heathenism,  even  in  its  most 
specious  form  ?  AYas  it  very  strange,  under  these 
circumstances,  that  a  sanguine  hope,  the  hope  of  the 
youthful,  should  have  led  Agellius  to  overlook  obsta- 
cles, and  beguile  himself  into  the  notion  that  Callista 
might  be  converted,  and  make  a  good  Christian  wife  ? 
AVeli,  Ave  have  nothing  more  to  say  for  him  ;  if  we 
have  not  already  succeeded  in  extenuating  his  offence, 
we  must  leave  him  to  the  mercy,  or  rather  to  the 
justice,  of  his  severely  virtuous  censors. 

But  all  this  w^hile  Jucuudus  has  been  conversing 
with  him  ;  and,  unless  we  are  quick  about  it,  we  shall 
lose  several  particulars  which  are  necessary  for  those 
who  wish  to  pursue  without  a  break  the  thread  of  his 
history.  His  uncle  had  brought  the  conversation  round 
to  the  delicate  point  which  had  occasioned  his  visit, 
and  had  just  broken  the  ice.  AVith  greater  tact,  and 
more  ample  poetical  resources  than  we  should  have 
given  him  credit  for,  he  had  been  led  from  the  scene 
beiore  him  to  those  prospects  of  a  moral  and  social 
character  which  ought  soon  to  employ  the  thoughts 
of  his  dear  Agellius.  He  had  spoken  of  vines  and 
of  their  culture,  apropos  of  the  dwarf  vines  around 
him,  which  stood  about  the  height  of  a  currant-bush. 
Thence  he  had  proceeded  to  the  subject  of  the  more 
common  vine  of  Africa,  which  crept  and  crawled 
along  the  ground,  the  extremity  of  eacli  plant  resting 
in  succession  on  the  stock  of  that  which  immediately 
preceded  it.  And  now,  being  well  into  his  subject, 
he  called  to  mind  the  high  vine  of  Italy,  which  mounts 
by  the  support  of  the  slim  tree  to  which  it  clings. 
Then  he  quoted  Horace  on  the  subject  of  the  marriage 
of  the  elm  and  the  vine.  This  lodged  him  in  medias 
res;  and  Agellius's  heart  beat,  when  he  found  his 
uncle  proposing  to  him,  as  a  thought  of  his  own,  the 
\  ery  step  which  he  had  fancied  was  almost  a  secret  of 


78  CALLISTA ; 

his  own  breast,  though  Juba  had  seemed  to  have 
some  suspicion  of  it. 

"Mj  dear  Agellius,"  said  Jucmidus,  "it  would  be 
a  most  suitable  proceeding.  I  have  never  taken  to 
marrying  myself;  it  has  not  lain  in  my  way,  or  been 
to  my  taste.  Tour  father  did  not  set  me  an  encourag- 
ing example ;  but  here  you  are  living  by  yourself,  in 
this  odd  lashion,  unlike  any  one  else.  Perhaps  you 
may  come  in  time  and  live  in  Sicca.  We  shall  lind 
some  way  of  employing  you,  and  it  will  be  pleasant  to 
have  you  near  me  as  I  get  old.  However,  I  mean  it 
to  be  some  time  yet  before  Charon  makes  a  prize  of 
me :  not  that  I  believe  all  that  rubbish  more  than 
you,  Agellius,  I  assure  you." 

*'  It  strikes  me,"  Agellius  began,  "  that  perhaps 
you  may  think  it  inconsistent  in  me  taking  such  a 
step,  but" — 

"Ay,  ay,  that's  the  rub,"  thought  Jucundus ;  then 
aloud,  "  Inconsistent,  my  boy !  who  talks  of  incon- 
sistency ?  what  superfine  jackanapes  dares  to  call  it 
inconsistent?  You  seem  made  for  each  other,  Agel- 
lius ;  she  town,  you  c'ountry  ;  she  so  clever  and  attrac- 
tive, and  up  to  the  world,  you  so  fresh  and  Arcadian. 
You'll  be  quite  the  talk  of  the  place." 

"That's  just  what  I  don't  want  to  be,"  said  Agel- 
lius. "  I  mean  to  say,"  -he  continued,  "  that  if  I 
thought  it  inconsistent  with  my  religion  to  think  of 
Callista"  — 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  interrupted  his  uncle,  who 
took  his  cue  from  Juba,  and  was  on  his  guard  against 
hurting  Agellius's  selt-respect,  "  but  who  knows  you 
have  been  a  Christian  ?  no  one  knows  any  thing  about 
it.  I'll  be  bound  they  all  think  you  an  honest  fellovir 
like  themselves,  a  worshipper  of  the  gods,  without 
crotchets  or  hobbies  of  any  kind.  I  never  told  them 
to  the  contrary.  My  opinion  is,  that  if  you  were  to 
make  your  libation  to  Jove,  and  throw  incense  upon 
the  imperial  altar  to-morrow,  no  one  would  think  it 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      79 

extraordinary.  They  would  say  for  certain  that  they  had 
seen  you  do  it  again  and  again.  Don't  fancy  for  an 
instant,  my  dear  Agellius,  that  you  have  any  thing 
whatever  to  get  over." 

Agellius  was  getting  awkward  and  mortified,  as  may 
be  easily  conceived,  and  Jucundus  saw  it,  but  coufd 
not  make  out  why.  "  My  dear  uncle,"  said  the  youth, 
"  you  are  reproaching  me." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Jucundus  confidently,  "not 
a  shadow  of  reproach ;  why  should  I  reproach  you  ? 
AYe  can't  be  wise  all  at  once ;  I  had  my  follies  once, 
as  you  may  have  had  yours.  It's  natural  you  should 
grow  more  attached  to  things  as  they  are, — things  i% 
they  are,  you  know, — as  time  goes  on.  Marriage,  and 
the  preparation  for  marriage,  sobers  a  man.  You've 
been  a  little  headstrong,  I  can't  deny,  and  had  your 
fling  in  your  own  way ;  but  '  nuces  pueris,'  as  you  will 
soon  be  saying  yourself  on  a  certain  occasion.  Your 
next  business  is  to  consider  what  kind  of  a  marriage 
you  propose.  I  suppose  the  Eoman;  but  there  is 
great  room  for  choice  even  there." 

It  is  a  proverb  how  different  things  are  in  theory 
and  when  reduced  to  practice.  Agellius  had  thought 
of  the  end  more  than  of  the  means,  and  had  had  a 
vision  of  Callista  as  a  Christian,  Avhen  the  question  of 
rites  and  forms  would  have  been  answered  by  the 
decision  of  the  Church  without  his  trouble.  He  was 
somewhat  sobered  by  the  question,  though  in  a  dif- 
ferent way  from  what  his  uncle  wished  and  intended. 

Jucundus  proceeded :  "  First,  there  is  matrimonium 
confarreationis.  You  have  nothing  to  do  with  that ; 
strictly  speaking,  it  is  obsolete ;  it  went  out  with  the 
exclusiveness  of  the  old  patricians.  I  say  '  strictly 
speaking ;'  for  the  ceremonies  remain,  waving  the 
formal  religious  rite.  Well,  my  dear  Agellius,  I  don't 
recommend  this  ceremonial  to  you.  You'd  have  to 
kill  a  porker,  to  take  out  the  entrails,  to  put  away  the 
gall,  and  to  present  it  to  Juno  Pronuba.  And  there's 
fire  too,  and  water,  and  frankincense,  and  a  great  deal 


80  CALLISTA  ; 

of  the  samo  kind,  ^Yhich  I  think  undesirable,  and 
you  would  too  ;  for  there,  I  am  sure,  we  are  agreed. 
'We  put  this  aside  then,  the  religious  marriage.  Next 
comes  the  marriage  ex  coemptione,  a  sort  of  mercan- 
tile transaction.  In  this  case  the  parties  bu}"  each 
other,  and  become  each  other's  property.  "Well,  qxqyj 
man  to  his  taste ;  but  for  me,  I  don't  like  to  be 
bought  and  sold.  I  like  to  be  my  own  master,  and 
am  suspicious  of  any  thing  ii revocable.  Why  should 
you  commit  yourself  (do  you  see?)  for  eYQv,for  ever, 
to  a  girl  you  know  so  little  of?  Don't  look  surprised ; 
it's  common  sense.  It's  very  well  to  buy  her ;  but  to 
be  bought,  that's  quite  another  matter.  And  I  don't 
know  that  you  can.  Being  a  Koman  citizen  yourself, 
you  can  only  make  a  marriage  with  a  citizen;  now  the 
question  is,  whether  Callista  is  a  citizen  at  all.  I 
know  perfectly  well  the  sweeping  measure  some  years 
back  of  Caracalla,  which  made  all  freemen  citizens  of 
Kome,  whatever  might  be  their  country ;  but  that 
measure  has  never  been  carried  out  in  fact.  Tou'd 
have  very  great  difficulty  with  the  law  and  the  cus- 
toms of  the  country  ;  and  then,  after  all,  if  the  world 
were  willing  to  gratify  you,  where's  your  proof  she  is 
a  freewoman  ?  My  dear  boy,  I  musfe  speak  out  for 
your  good,  though  you're  oftended  with  me.  I  wish 
you  to  have  her,  I  do ;  but  you  can't  do  impossibili- 
ties ;  you  can't  alter  facts.  The  laws  of  the  empire 
allow  you  to  have  her  in  a  certain  definite  way,  and  no 
other ;  and  you  cannot  help  the  law  being  what  it  is. 
I  say  all  this,  even  on  the  supposition  of  her  being  a 
freewoman ;  but  it  is  just  possible  she  may  be  in  law 
a  slave.  Don't  start  in  that  way;  the  pretty  thing 
is  neither  better  or  worse  for  what  she  cannot  help.  I 
say  it  for  your  good.  AVell,  now  I'm  coming  to  my 
point.  There  is  a  third  kind  of  marriage,  and  that  is 
what  I  should  recommend  for  you.  It's  the  onatri- 
monium  ex  usu,  or  consiietudme  ;  the  great  advantage 
here  is,  that  you  have  no  ceremonies  whatever,  nothing 
which    can  in   any  Avay  stai*tle  vour  sensitive  mind. 


A    SKETCH    or    THE    TnillD    CENTtTHY.  81 

In  that  case  a  couple  are  man  and  wife  at  length  pra?- 
scripiione.  Ton  are  afraid  of  making  a  stir  in  Sicca  ;  in 
this  case  you  would  make  none.  You  would  simply  take 
her  home  here :  if,  as  time  went  on,  you  got  on  well 
together,  it  would  be  a  marriage ;  if  not,"  and  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  "  no  harm's  done  ;  vou  are 
both  free." 

Agellius  had  been  sitting  on  a  gate  of  one  of  the 
vineyards ;  he  started  on  his  feet,  threw  up  his  arms, 
and  made  an  exclamation. 

"  Listen,  listen,  my  dear  boy,"  cried  Jucundus, 
hastening  to  explain  what  he  considered  the  cause  of 
his  annoyance  ;  "  Kateu,  just  one  moment,  Agellius,  if 
you  can.  Dear,  dear,  how  I  wish  I  knew  where  to 
find  you  !  What  is  the  matter  ?  I'm  not  treating  her 
ill,  I'm  not  indeed.  I  have  not  had  any  notion  at  all 
even  of  hinting  that  you  should  leave  her,  unless  you 
both  wished  the  bargain  rescinded.  No,  but  it  is  a 
great  rise  tbr  her ;  you  are  a  lloman,  with  property, 
with  position  in  the  place ;  she's  a  stranger,  aud 
without  a  dower:  nobody  knows  whence  she  came,  or 
any  thing  about  her.  She  ought  to  have  no  difficulty 
about  it,  and  I  am  confident  will  have  none." 

"  O,  my  good,  dear  uncle  !  O  Jucundus,  Jucun- 
dus !  "  cried  Agellius,  "is  it  possible?  do  my  ears 
hear  right  ?  "What  is  it  you  ask  me  to  do  ?  "  and  he 
burst  into  tears.  "  Is  it  conceivable  ?  "  he  said  with 
energy,  "that  you  are  in  earnest  in  recommending  me, 
I  say,  in  recommending  me  a  marriage  which  really 
Avould  be  no  marriage  at  all?  " 

"Here  is  some  very  great  mistake,"  said  Jucundus 
seriously ;  "  it  arises,  Agellius,  from  your  ignorance  of 
the  world.  Ton  must  be  thinking  I  recommend  you 
mere  contuhernium.  as  the  lav.-yers  call  it.  AVell,  I 
confess  I  did  think  of  that  for  a  moment ;  it  occurred 
to  me  ;  I  should  have  liked  to  have  mentioned  it,  but, 
knowing  how  preposterously  touchy  and  skittish  you 
are  on  supposed  points  of  honour,  or  sentiment,  or 
romance,  or  of  something  or  other  indescribable,  I  said 


82  OALLISTA ; 

not  one  -^ord  about  that.  I  have  only  Tvlshed  to  con- 
sult for  your  comfort,  present  and  future.  You  don't 
do  me  justice,  Agellius.  I  have  been  attempting  to 
smooth  your  way.  You  must  act  according  to  the 
received  usages  of  society ;  you  cannot  make  a  world 
for  yourself.  Here  have  I  proposed  three  or  ibur 
ways  for  your  proceeding:  you  will  have  none  of 
them.  What  ivill  you  have?  I  thought  you  didn't 
like  ceremonies;  I  thought  you  did  not  like  the  esta- 
blislied  ways.  Go,  then,  do  it  in  the  old  fashion  ;  kill 
youT  sheep,  knead  your  meal,  light  your  torches,  sing 
your  song,  summon  your  flamen,  if  he'll  come.  Any 
how,  take  your  choice:  do  it  either  with  religion  or 
without." 

"O  Jucundus,"  said  the  poor  fellow,  "am  I  then 
come  to  this  ?  "  and  he  could  say  no  more. 

His  distress  was  not  greater  than  his  uncle's  dis- 
appointment, perplexity,  and  annoyance.  The  latter 
had  been  making  every  thing  easy  for  Agellius,  and  he 
was  striking,  do  what  he  would,  on  hidden,  inexpli- 
cable impediments,  whichever  way  he  moved.  He  got 
more  and  more  angry,  the  more  he  thought  about  it. 
An  unreasonable,  irrational  coxcomb  !  He  had  heard 
a  great  deal  of  the  portentous  stubbornness,  of  a 
Christian,  and  now  he  understood  what  it  was.  It 
was  in  his  blood,  he  saw  ;  an  offensive,  sour  humour, 
tainting  him  from  head  to  foot.  A  very  different 
recompense  had  he  deserved.  There  had  he  come  all 
the  way  from  his  home  from  purely  disinterested 
feelings.  He  had  no  motive  whatever,  but  a  simple 
desire  of  his  nephew's  welfare ;  what  other  motive 
could  he  have  ?  "Let  Agellius  go  to  the  crows,"  he 
thought,  "  if  he  will ;  what  is  it  to  me,  if  he  is  seized 
for  a  Christian,  hung  up  hke  a  dog,  or  thrown  like  a 
dead  rat  into  the  cloaca  of  the  prison  ?  "What  care  I 
if  he  is  made  an  hyena's  breakfast  in  the  amphitheatre, 
all  ISicca  looking  on,  or  if  he  is  nailed  on  a  cross  for 
the  birds  to  peck  at  before  my  door  ?  Ungrateful 
puppy,  it  is  no  earthly  concern  of  mine  what  becomes 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUEY-      83 

of  him,  I  shall  be  neither  better  nor  worse.  No 
one  will  say  a,  word  against  Jucundiis  ;  he  will  not 
lose  a  single!  customer,  or  be  shunned  by  a  single  jolly 
companion,  for  the  exposure  of  his  nephew.  But  a 
man  can't  be  saved  against  his  will.  Here  am  I,  full 
of  expedients  and  resources  for  his  good  ;  there  is  he, 
throwing  cold  water  on  every  thing,  and  making  diffi- 
culties, as  if  he  loved  them.  It's  his  abominable 
pride  ;  that's  the  pith  of  the  matter.  He  could  not 
have  behaved  worse,  though  I  had  played  the  bully 
with  him,  and  had  reproached  him  with  his  Chris- 
tianity. But  I  have  studiously  avoided  every  subject 
which  could  put  his  back  np.  He's  a  very  Typhon 
or  Enceladus  for  pride.  Here  he'd  give  his  ears  to 
have  done  with  Christianity;  he  wants  to  have  this 
CuUista ;  he  wants  to  swop  her  for  his  religion;  but 
he'd  rather  be  burned  than  say,  I've  changed !  Let 
him  reap  as  he  has  sown ;  why  should  I  coax  him 
further  to  be  merciful  to  himself?  AV^ell,  Agellius," 
he  said  aloud,  "I'm  going  back." 

Agellius,  on  the  other  hand,  had  his  own  thoughts ; 
and  the  most  urgent  of  them,  at  the  moment,  was 
sorrow  that  he  had  hurt  his  uncle.  He  was  sincerely 
attached  to  him,  in  consequence  of  his  faithful  guard- 
ianship, his  many  acts  of  kindness,  the  reminiscences 
of  childhood,  nay,  the  love  he  bore  to  the  good  points 
of  his  character.  To  him  he  owed  his  education  and 
his  respectable  position.  He  could  not  bear  his  anger, 
and  he  had  a  fear  of  his  authority ;  but  what  was  to 
be  done?  Jucundus,  in  utter  insensibility  to  certain 
instincts  and  rules  which  in  Christianity  are  first 
principles,  had,  without  intending  it,  been  greatly 
dishonouring  himself,  and  his  passion,  and  the  object 
of  it.  Uncle  and  nephew  had  been  treading  on  each 
other's  toes,  and  eacii  was  wincing  under  the  mis- 
chance. It  was  Agellius's  place,  as  the  younger,  to 
make  advances,  if  he  could,  to  an  adjustment  of  the 
misunderstanding ;  and  he  wished  to  iind  some  middle 
a  2 


84  CALLISTA ; 

way.  And,  also,  it  is  evident  he  had  another  induce- 
ment besides  his  tenderness  to  Jucundus  to  nrge  hiin 
to  do  so.  In  truth,  Callista  exerted  a  tremendous 
sway  over  him.  The  conversation  which  had  just 
passed  ought  to  have  opened  his  eyes,  and  made  liim 
understand  that  the  very  first  step  in  any  negotiations 
between  them  was  her  iond  fide  conversion.  It  was 
evidently  he  could  not,  he  literally  had  not  the  power 
of  marrying  her  as  a  heathen.  JRoman  might  marry 
Itoman  ;  but  a  degradation  of  each  party  in  the  trans- 
action was  the  only  way  by  which  a  Eoman  could 
make  any  sort  of  marriage  with  a  Greek.  If  she  were 
converted,  they  would  be  both  of  them  under  the 
rules  of  the  Catholic  Church.  But  what  prospect  was 
there  of  so  happy  an  event  ?  AVhat  had  ever  fallen 
from  her  lips  which  looked  that  way  ?  Could  not  a 
clever  girl  throw  iierself  into  the  part  of  Alcestis,  or 
chant  the  majestic  verses  of  Clcanthes,  or  extemporize 
a  hymn  upon  the  spring,  or  hold  an  argument  on  the 
fidchrum  and  utile^  without  having  any  leaning  towards 
Christianity  r*  A  calm,  sweet  voice,  a  noble  air,  an 
expressive  countenance,  refined  and  decorous  manners, 
were  these  specific  indications  of  heavenly  grace  ?  Ah, 
poor  Agellius!  a  fascination  is  upon  you;  and  so  you 
are  thinking  of  some  middle  term,  which  is  to  recon- 
cile your  uncle  and  you ;  and,  therefore,  you  begin  as 
follows : — 

"  I  see  by  your  silence,  Jucundus,  that  you  are 
displeased  with  me,  you  who  are  always  so  kind. 
Weil,  it  comes  from  my  ignorance  of  things  ;  it  does, 
indeed.  I  ask  your  forgiveness  for  any  thing  which 
seemed  ungrateful  in  my  behaviour,  though  there  is 
not  ingratitude  in  my  heart.  I  am  too  much  of  a  boy 
to  see  things  beforehand,  and  to  see  them  in  all  tiieir 
bearings.  You  took  me  by  surprise  by  talking  on  the 
subject  which  led  to  our  misunderstanding.  I  will 
not  conceal  for  an  instant  that  I  like  Callista  very 
much,    and  that  the  more  I  see  her,  I  like  her  the 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      85 

more.  It  strikes  me  that,  if  you  break  tlie  matter  to 
Aristo,  he  and  I  might  have  some  talk  together,  and 
understand  each  other." 

Jucuudus  was  hot-tempered,  but  easily  pacified; 
and  he  really  did  wish  to  be  on  confidential  terms 
with  his  nephew  at  the  present  crisis ;  so  he  caught  at 
his  apology.  "  Now  you  speak  like  a  reasonable  i'el- 
low,  Ageliius,"  he  answered.  "  Certainly,  I  will  Gpeak 
to  Aristo,  as  you  wish  ;  and  on  this  question  of  con- 
suetudo  or  prescription.  AVell,  don't  begin  looking 
queer  again.  I  mean  1  will  speak  to  him  on  the 
whole  question  and  its  details.  He  and  I  will  talk 
together  for  our  respective  principals.  AVe  shall  soon 
come  to  terms,  I  warrant  you  ;  and  then  yoii^  sliall 
talk  with  him.  Come,  show  me  round  your  fields," 
he  continued,  "and  let  me  see  how  you  will  be  able  to 
present  things  to  your  bride.  A  very  pretty  property 
it  is.  I  it  was,  who  was  the  means  of  your  father 
thinking  of  it.  You  have  heard  me  say  so  before  now, 
and  all  the  circum.stances. 

"  He  was  at  Carthage  at  this  time,  undecided  what 
to  do  with  himself.  It  so  happened  that  Julia  Clara's 
estates  were  just  then  in  the  market.  An  enormous 
windfall  her  estates  were.  Old  Didius  was  emperor 
just  before  my  time ;  ho  gave  all  his  estates  to  his 
daughter  as  soon  as  he  assumed  the  purple.  Poor 
lady  !  she  did  not  enjoy  them  long;  Severus  confiscated 
the  whole,  not,  however,  for  the  benefit  of  the  state, 
but  of  the  o^es  jprivata.  They  are  so  large  in  Africa 
alone,  that,  as  you  know,  you  are  under  a  special  pro- 
curator. Well,  they  did  not  come  into  the  market  at 
once ;  the  existing  farmers  were  retained.  Marcus 
Juventius  farmed  a  very  considerable  portion  of  them  ; 
they  were  contiguous  and  dovetailed  into  his  own 
lands,  and  accordingly,  when  he  got  into  trouble,  and 
bad  to  sell  his  leases,  there  were  certain  odds  and  ends 
about  Sicca  which  it  was  proposed  to  lease  piecemeal. 
Your  employer,  A'^arius,  would  have  given  any  money 
for  them,  but  I  was  beforehand  with  him.     Nothing 


86  CALLISTA ; 

like  being  on  tlie  spot ;  he  was  on  business  of  tbe  pro- 
consul at  Adrumetum.  I  sent  off  Hispa  instantly  to 
Strabo ;  not  an  hour's  delay  after  I  heard  of  it.  The 
sale  was  at  Carthage ;  he  went  to  his  old  commander, 
who  used  his  influence,  and  the  thing  was  done. 

"I  venture  to  say  there's  not  such  a  snng  little  farm 
in  all  Africa  ;  and  I'm  sanguine  we  shall  get  a  renewal, 
though  Yarius  will  do  his  utmost  to  outbid  us.  Ah, 
my  dear  Agellius,  if  there  is  but  a  suspicion  you  are 
not  a  thoroughgoing  Eoman !  "Well,  well, — here! 
ease  me  through  this  gate,  Agellius ;  I  don't  know 
what's  come  to  the  gate  since  1  was  here.  Indeed ! — 
yes !  you  have  improved  this  very  much.  That  small 
arbour  is  delicious ;  but  you  want  an  image,  an  A  polio 
or  a  Diana.  Ah !  do  now  stop  for  a  moment ;  why 
are  you  going  forward  at  such  a  pace  ?  I'll  give  you 
an  image ;  it  shall  be  one  that  you  will  really  like. 
AVell,  you  won't  have  it  ?  I  beg  you  ten  thousand 
pardons.  Ha,  ha!  I  mean  nothing.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 
O,  what  an  odd  world  it  is!  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
Well,  I'm  keeping  you  from  your  labourers.  Ha,  ha, 
ha!" 

And,  having  thus  smoothed  his  own  ruffled  temper, 
and  set  things  right,  as  he  considered,  with  Agellius, 
the  old  pagan  took  his  journey  homewards,  telling 
Agellius  that  he  would  make  all  things  clear  for  him 
in  a  very  short  time,  and  telling  him  to  be  sure  to 
make  a  call  upon  Aristo  before  the  ensuing  calends. 


JL  SKETCH   or  THE   THIED   CENTUEY. 


87 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  day  came  Avliich  AgelHus  had  fixed  for  paying 
his  promised  visit  to  Aristo.  It  is  not  to  be  denied 
that,  in  the  interval,  the  difficulties  of  the  business 
■which  occasioned  his  visit  had  increased  npon  his 
apprehensions.  Cullista  was  not  yet  a  Christian,  nor 
was  there  any  reason  to  divine  that  a  proposal  of 
marriage  would  make  her  one ;  and  a  strange  sort  of 
convert  she  would  be,  if  it  did.  He  would  not  suff'er 
himself  to  dwell  upon  difiiculties,  which  he  was  deter- 
mined never  should  be  realized.  No  ;  of  course  a 
heathen  he  could  not  marry,  but  a  heathen  Callista 
should  not  be.  He  did  not  see  the  process,  but  he 
was  convinced  she  would  become  a  Christian.  Yet 
somehow  so  it  was  that,  if  he  was  able  to  stultify  his 
reason,  he  did  not  quite  succeed  to  his  satisfaction  with 
his  conscience.  Every  morning  found  him  less  satis- 
fied with  himself,  and  more  disposed  to  repent  of 
having  allowed  his  uncle  to  enter  on  the  subject  with 
Aristo.  But  it  was  a  thing  done  and  over;  he  must 
either  awkwardly  back  out,  or  he  must  go  on.  His 
middle  term,  as  he  hastily  had  considered  it,  was 
nothing  else  than  siding  with  his  uncle,  and  commit- 
ting himself  to  go  all  lengths,  unless  some  difiiculty 
rose  with  the  other  pa.'ty.  Yet  could  he  really  wish 
that  tlie  step  had  not  been  taken  ?  AYas  it  not 
plain  that,  if  he  was  to  put  away  Callista  from  his 
afiections,  he  must  never  go  near  her  ?     And  was  he 


88  CALLISTA  ; 

to  fall  back  on  his  drear  solitude,  and  lose  that  outlet 
of  thought  and  relief  of  mind  which  he  lately  found 
in  the  society  of  his  Greek  friends  ? 

"We  may  easily  believe  that  he  was  not  very  peaceful 
in  mind,  when  he  set  out  on  that  morning  to  call  upon 
Aristo ;  yet  he  -would  not  allo\Y  that  he  \Yas  doing 
■wrong.  He  recurred  to  the  pleasant  imagination  that 
Callista  would  certainly  become  a  Christian,  and  dwelt 
pertinaciously  upon  it.  He  could  not  tell  on  what  it 
was  founded ;  he  knew  enough  of  his  religion  not  to 
mean  that  she  was  too  good  to  be  a  heathen  ;  so  it  is 
to  be  supposed  he  meant  that  he  discerned  what  he 
hoped  were  traces  of  some  supernatural  influence 
operating  upon  her  mind.  He  had  a  perception 
which  he  could  not  justify  by  argument,  that  there 
was  in  Callista  a  promise  of  something  higher  than 
any  thing  she  yet  was.  He  felt  a  strange  sympathy 
with  her,  which  certainly,  unless  he  utterly  deceived 
himself,  wag  not  based  on  any  thing  merely  natural  or 
human, — a  sympathy  the  more  remarkable  from  the 
contrariety  which  existed  between  them  in  matters  of 
religious  iDelief.  And  hope  having  blown  this  large 
and  splendid  bubble,  sent  it  sailing  away,  and  it  rose 
upon  the  buoyant  atmosphere  of  youth,  beautiful  to 
behold. 

And  yet,  as  Agellius  ascended  the  long  flight  of 
marble  steps  which  led  the  foot-passenger  up  into 
that  fair  city,  while  the  morning  sun  was  glancing 
across  them,  and  surveyed  the  outline  of  the  many 
sumptuous  buildings  which  crested  and  encircled  the 
hill,  did  he  not  know  full  well  that  iniquity  was  writ- 
ten on  its  very  walls,  and  spoke  a  solemn  warning  to 
a  Christian  heart  to  go  out  of  it,  to  flee  it,  not  to  take 
up  a  home  in  it,  not  to  make  aUiance  with  any  in  it  P 
Did  he  not  know  from  experience  full  well  that,  when 
he  got  into  it,  his  glance  could  no  longer  be  unre- 
strained, or  his  air  free ;  but  that  it  would  be  neces- 
sary for  him  to  keep  a  control  upon  his  senses,  and 
painfully  guard  himself  against  what  must  eitlier  be 


A    SKETCH    or    THE    THIRD    CEITTUTIY.  89 

a  terror  to  liim  and  an  abhorrence,  or  a  temptation  ? 
Enter  in  imagination  into  a  town  like  Sicca,  and  you 
will  understand  the  great  Apostle's  anguish  at  seeing 
a  noble  and  beautiful  citj  given  up  to  idolatry.  Enter 
it,  and  you  will  understand  why  it  was  that  the  poor 
priest  of  whom  Jucundus  spoke  so  bitterly  hung  his 
head,  and  walked  with  timid  eyes  and  clouded  brow 
through  the  joyous  streets  of  Carthage.  Hitherto  we 
have  only  been  conducting  heathens  through  it,  boys 
or  men,  Jucundus,  Arnobius,  and  Firraius ;  but  now  a 
Christian  enters  it  with  a  Christian's  heart  and  a 
Christian's  hopes. 

Well  is  it  for  us,  dear  reader,  that  we  in  this  age 
do  not  experience,  nay,  a  blessed  thing  that  we  cannot 
even  frame  to  ourselves  in  imagination,  the  actual 
details  of  evil  which  hung  as  an  atmosphere  over  the 
cities  of  pagan  Home.  An  Apostle  calls  the  tongue 
"a  fire,  a  world  of  iniquity,  untameable,  a  restless 
evil,  a  deadly  poison  ;"  and  surely  what  he  says  applies 
to  hideous  thoughts  represented  to  the  eye,  as  well 
as  when  they  are  made  to  strike  upon  the  ear.  Un- 
fortunate Agellius !  what  takes  you  into  the  city  this 
morning  ?  Doubtless  some  urgent,  com})ulsive  duty ; 
otherwise  you  would  not  surely  be  threading  its  lanes 
or  taking  the  circuit  of  its  porticoes,  amid  sights 
which  now  shock  and  now  allure;  fearfid  sights, — not 
here  and  there,  but  on  the  stateliest  structures  and  in  the 
meanest  hovels,  in  public  offices  and  private  houses,  in 
central  spots  and  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  in  bazaars 
and  shops  and  house-doors,  in  the  rudest  workmanship 
and  in  the  highest  art,  in  letters  or  in  emblems  or  in  paint- 
ings,— the  insignia  and  the  pomp  of  Satan  and  of  Belial, 
of  a  reign  of  corruption  and  a  revel  of  idolatry  which 
you  can  neither  endure  nor  escape.  Wherever  you  go 
it  is  all  the  same ;  in  the  court  of  police  on  the  right, 
in  the  military  station  on  the  left,  in  the  crowd  around 
the  temple,  in  the  procession  with  its  victims  and  its 
worshippers  who  walk  to  music,  in  the  language  of 


90  CALLISTA ; 

the  noisy  raarket-people ;  wherever  you  go,  you  are 
accosted,  confronted,  publicly,  shamelessly,  now  as  if 
a  precept  of  religion,  now  as  if  a  homage  to  nature, 
by  all  which,  as  a  Christian,  you  shrink  from  and 
abjure. 

It  is  no  accident  of  the  season  or  of  the  day ;  it  is 
the  continuous  tradition  of  some  thousands  of  years. 
It  is  the  very  orthodoxy  of  the  myriads  who  have 
lived  and  died  there.  There  was  a  region  once,  in  an 
early  age,  lying  upon  the  Eastern  Sea,  which  is  said 
at  length  to  have  vomited  out  its  inhabitants  for  tlieir 
frightful  iniquity.  They,  thus  cast  forth,  took  ship, 
and  passed  over  to  the  southern  coast;  and  then, 
gradually  settling  and  spreading  into  the  interior, 
they  peopled  the  woody  plains  and  fertile  slopes  of 
Africa,  and  filled  it  with  their  cities.  Sicca  is  one  of 
these,  set  up  in  sin;  and  at  the  time  of  which  we 
write  that  sin  was  basking  under  the  sun,  and  rioting 
and  extending  itself  to  its  amplest  dimensions,  like 
some  glittering  serpent  or  spotted  pard  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, without  interposition  from  heaven  or  earth 
in  correction  of  so  awful  a  degradation.  In  such 
scenes  of  unspeakable  pollution,  our  Christian  fore- 
fathers perforce  lived ;  through  sucli  a  scene,  though 
not  taking  part  in  it,  Agellius,  blest  with  a  country 
home,  is  unnecessarily  passing. 

He  has  reached  the  house,  or  rather  the  floor,  to 
which  he  has  been  making  his  way.  It  is  at  the  back 
of  the  city,  where  the  rock  is  steep ;  and  it  looks  out 
upon  the  plain  and  the  mountain  range  to  the  north. 
Its  inmates,  Aristo  and  Callista,  are  engaged  in  their 
ordinary  work  of  moulding  or  carving,  painting  or  gild- 
ing the  various  articles  which  the  temples  or  the 
private  shrines  of  the  established  religion  required. 
Aristo  has  received  from  Jucundus  the  overtures 
which  Agellius  liad  commissioned  him  to  make,  and 
finds,  as  he  anticipated,  that  they  are  no  great  news 
to  his  sister.     She  perfectly  understands  what  is  going 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.      91 

on,  but  does  not  care  to  speak  miicli  upon  it,  till 
Agellius  makes  his  appearance.  As  they  sit  at  Avork 
Aristo  speaks. 

"Agellius  will  make  his  appearance  here  this  morn-, 
ing.     I  say,  Callista,  \Yhat  can  he  be  coming  for  ?" 

"  "Why,  if  your  ne^YS  be  true,  that  the  Christiana 
are  coming  into  trouble,  of  course  he  means  to  pur- 
chase, as  a  blessing  on  him,  some  of  these  bits  of 
gods." 

"You  are  sharp  enough,  my  little  sister,"  answered 
Aristo,  "  to  knovy  perfectly  well  who  is  the  goddess  he 
is  desirous  of  purchasing." 

Callista  laughed  carelessly,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  Come,  child,"  Aristo  continued,  "  don't  be  cruel  to 
him.  Wreath  a  garland  for  him  by  the  time  he  comes. 
He's  well  to  do,  and  modest  withal,  and  needs  encou- 
ragement." 

"He's  well  enough,"  said  Callista. 

"  I  say  he's  a  fellow  too  well  off*  to  be  despised  as  a 
loyer,"  proceeded  her  brother;  "and  it  would  be  a 
merit  with  the  gods  to  rid  him  of  his  superstition." 

" Not  much  of  a  Christian,"  she  made  answer,  "if 
he  is  set  upon  me." 

"  Tor  whose  sake  has  he  been  coming  here  so  often, 
mine  or  yours,  Callista?" 

"I  am  tired  of  such  engagements,"  she  replied. 
She  went  on  with  her  painting,  and  seyeral  times 
seemed  as  if  she  would  have  spoken,  but  did  not. 
Then,  without  interrupting  her  work,  she  said  calmly, 
"Time  was,  it  gratified  my  conceit  and  my  feelings 
to  have  hangers  on.  Indeed,  without  them,  how 
should  we  have  had  means  to  come  here  ?  But  there's 
a  weariness  in  all  things." 

"  A  weariness !  where  is  this  bad  humour  to  end  ?" 
cried  Aristo ;  "  it  has  been  a  long  fit ;  shake  it  off 
while  you  can,  or  it  will  be  too  much  for  you.  "What 
can  you  mean?  a  weariness!  You  are  over-young 
to  bid  youth  farewell.  Aching  hearts  for  aching  bones. 
So  young  and  so  perverse  I     "We  must  take  things  aa 


92  CALLISTA  ; 

the  gods  give  tLem.  Ton  will  ask  for  them  in  vain 
when  you  are  old.  One  day  above,  another  day  be- 
neath ;  one  while  young,  another  while  old.  Enjoy 
life  while  you  have  it  in  your  hand."  He  had  said 
this  as  he  worked.  Then  he  stopped,  and  turned 
round  to  her,  with  his  graving  tool  in  his  hand. 
"  Eecollect  old  Lesbia,  how  she  used  to  squeak  out  to 
me,  with  her  nodding  head  and  trembling  limbs," — 
here  he  mimicked  the  old  crone, — "  '  My  boy,  take 
your  pleasure  while  you  can.  I  can't  take  pleasure, 
— my  day  is  over;  but  I  don't  reproach  myself.  I 
had  a  merry  time  of  it  while  it  lasted.  Time  stops 
for  no  one,  but  I  did  my  best ;  I  don't  reproach  my- 
self.' There's  the  true  philosopher,  though  a  slave ; 
more  out-spoken  than  -^sop,  more  practical  than 
Epictetus." 

Callista  began  singing  to  herself: — 

"  I  wander  by  that  river's  brink 

Which  circles  Pluto's  drear  domain  ; 
I  feel  the  chill  night-breeze,  and  think 
Of  joj's  which  ne'er  shall  be  again. 

"  I  count  the  weeds  that  fringe  the  shore, 
Each  sluggish  wave  that  rolls  and  rolls  ; 
I  hear  the  ever-splashing  oar 
Of  Charon,  ferr3-man  of  souls." 

"Heigho!"  she  continued,  "little  regret,  but  much 
dread.  The  young  have  to  fear  more  than  the  old 
have  to  mourn  over.  The  future  outweighs  the  past. 
Life  is  not  so  sweet  as  death  is  bitter.  It  is  hard  to 
quit  the  light,  the  light  of  heaven." 

"  Callistidion  !  "  he  said  impatiently,  "  my  girl,,this 
is  preposterous.  How  long  is  this  to  go  on  ?  We 
must  take  you  to  Carthage  :  there  is  more  trade  there, 
if  we  can  get  it ;  and  it  will  be  on  the  briglit,  far- 
resounding  sea.  And  I  will  turn  rhetorician,  and  you 
shall  feed  my  classes." 

"  0  beautiful,  divine  light,"  she  continued,  "  what 
a  loss !  O,  to  think  that  one  day  I  must  lose  you  for 
ever !     At  home  I  used  to  lie  awake  at  night  longing 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUEY.      93 

for  the  morning,  and  crying  out  for  tbe  god  of  day. 
It  was  like  choice  wine  to  me,  a  cup  of  Chian,  the  first 
streaks  of  the  Aurora,  and  I  could  hardly  bear  his 
bright  coming,  when  he  came  to  me,  like  Semele,  for 
rapture.  How  gloriously  did  he  shoot  over  the  hills ! 
and  then  anon  he  rested  awhile  on  the  snowy  summit 
of  Olympus,  as  in  some  luminous  shrine,  gladdening 
the  Phrygian  plain.  Fair,  bright-haired  god !  thou 
art  my  worship,  if  CalHsta  worships  aught ;  but  some- 
how I  worship  nothing  now.     I  am  weary." 

"  AVell,"  said  her  brother  in  a  soothing  tone,  "it  is 
a  change.  That  light,  elastic  air,  that  transparent 
heaven,  that  fresh  temperate  breeze,  that  majestic  sea! 
Africa  is  not  Grreece;  O,  the  difference!  That's  it, 
Callista ;  it  is  the  nostalgia;  you  are  home-sick." 

"It  may  be  so,"  she  said;  "I  do  not  well  know 
what  I  would  have.  Yes,  the  poisonous  dews,  the 
heavy  heat,  the  hideous  beasts,  the  green  fever-gender- 
ing swamps.  This  vast  thickly-wooded  plain,  like 
some  mysterious  labyrinth,  oppresses  and  disquiets  me 
with  its  very  richness.  The  luxuriant  foliage,  the  tall 
rank  plants,  the  deep  close  lanes,  I  do  not  see  my  way 
through  them,  and  I  pant  for  breath.  I  only  breathe 
freely  on  this  hill.  O,  how  unlike  Greece,  with  the 
clear,  soft,  delicate  colouring  of  its  mountains,  and 
the  pure  azure  or  the  purple  of  its  waters  !  " 

"But,  my  dear  Callista,"  interrupted  her  brother, 
"recollect  you  are  not  in  those  oppressive  gloomy 
forests,  but  up  in  Sicca,  and  no  one  asks  you  to  pene- 
trate them.  And  if  yon  want  mountains,  I  think  those 
on  the  horizon  are  bare  enough." 

"And  the  race  of  man,"  she  continued,  "is  worse 
than  all.  "Where  is  the  genius  of  our  bright  land  ? 
where  its  intelligence,  playfulness,  grace,  and  noble 
bearing  ?  Here  hearts  are  as  black  as  brows,  and 
smiles  as  treacherous  as  the  adders  of  the  wood.  The 
natives  are  crafty  and  remorseless  ;  they  never  relax  ; 
they  have  no  cheerfulness  or  mirth ;  their  very  love  is 
a  furnace,  and  their  sole  ecstasy  is  revenge." 


94  CALLISTA  j 

"  "No  country  like  home  to  any  of  us,"  said  Aristo ; 
"yet  here  you  are.  Habit  would  be  a  second  nature,  if 
you  were  here  long  enough,  your  feelings  would  becouie 
acclimated,  and  would  find  a  new  home.  People  get 
to  like  the  darkness  of  the  extreme  north  in  course  of 
time.  The  painted  Britons,  the  Cimmerians,  the 
Hyperboreans,  are  content  never  to  see  the  snn  at 
all,  which  is  your  god.  Here  your  own  god  reigns  ; 
why  quarrel  with  him  ? 

"The^unof  Greece  is  light,"  answered  Callista; 
"the  sun  of  Africa  is  fire.     I  am  no  fire-worshipper." 

"  I  suspect  even  Styx  and  Phlegethon  are  tolerable 
at  length,"  said  her  brother,  ''if  Phlegethon  and  Stj^x 
there  be,  as  the  poets  tell  us." 

"The  cold,  foggy  Styx  is  the  north,"  said  Callista, 
"and  the  south  is  the  scorching,  blasting  Phlegethon, 
and  Greece,  clear,  sweet,  and  sunny,  is  the  Elysian 
fields."     And  she  continued  her  improvisations  : — 

♦'  Where  are  the  islands  of  the  blest  ? 
They  stud  tlie  ^Egean  sea ; 
And  wliere  the  deep  Elysian  rest  ? 
It  haunts  the  vale,  where  Peneus  strong 
Pours  his  incessant  stream  along, 
While  craggy  ridge  and  mountain  bare 
Cut  keenly  through  the  liquid  air, 
And.  iu  their  own  pure  tints  arrayed, 
Scorn  earth's  green  robes  which  change  and  fade, 
And  stand  in  beauty  undccayed, 
Guards  of  the  bold  aud  free." 

"A  lower  flight,  if  you  please,  just  now,"  said  Aristo, 
interrupting  her  "  I  do  really  wish  a  serious  word 
with  you  about  Agellius.  He's  a  fellow  1  can't  help 
liking,  in  spite  of  his  misanthropy.  Let  me  plead  his 
cause.  Like  him  or  not  yourself,  still  he  has  a  full 
purse  ;  and  you  will  do  a  service  to  yourself  and  to 
the  gods  of  Greece,  and  to  him  too,  if  you  will  smile 
on  him.  Smile  on  him,  at  least  for  a  time  ;  we  will  go 
to  Carthage  when  you  are  tired.  His  looks  have 
very  little  in  them  of  a  Christian  left ;  you  may  blow 
it  away  with  your  breath." 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      95 

"  One  might  do  worse  than  be  a  Christian,"  she 
answered  slowly,  "  if  all  is  true  that  I  have  heard  of 
them." 

Aristo  started  up  in  irritation.  "  By  all  the  gods 
of  Olympus,"  he  said,  "  this  is  intolerable!  If  a  man 
wants  a  tormentor,  I  commend  him  to  a  girl  like  you. 
AVhat  has  ailed  thee  some  time  past,  thou  silly  child  ? 
What  have  I  done  to  you,  that  you  should  have  got  so 
cross  and  contrary,  and  so  hard  to  please  ?  " 

"I  mean,"  said  she,  "if  I  were  a  Christian,  life 
would  be  more  bearable." 

"  Bearable  !  "  he  echoed  ;  "  bearable  !  ye  gods  ! 
more  bearable  to  have  Styx  and  Tartarus,  the  Furies 
and  their  snakes,  in  this  world  as  well  as  in  the  next ! 
to  have  evil  within  and  without,  to  hate  oneself  and  to 
be  hated  of  all  men,  to  live  the  life  of  an  ass,  and  to 
die  the  death  of  a  dog !  Bearable !  But  hark !  I  hear 
Agellius's  step  on  the  staircase.  Callista,  dear  Cal- 
lista,  be  yourself.     Listen  to  reason." 

But  Callista  would  not  listen  to  reason,  if  her 
brother  was  its  embodiment ;    but  went  on  with  her 


"  For  what  is  Afric  but  the  home 

Of  burning  Phlegethon  ? 
What  the  low  beach  and  silent  gloom, 
And  chilling  mists  of  that  dull  river, 
Along  whose  bank  the  thin  ghosts  shiver, 
The  thin  wan  ghosts  that  once  were  men, 
But  Tauris,  isle  of  moor  and  fen  ; 
Or,  dimly  traced  by  seaman's  ken, 

The  pale-cliffed  Albion  ?  " 

Here  she  stopped,  looked  down,  and  busied  herself  with 
her  work. 


96  CALLISTAJ 


CHAPTER  XL 

It  is  undeniably  a  solemn  moment,  under  any  circum- 
stances, and  requires  a  strong  heart,  when  any  one 
deliberately  surrenders  himself,  soul  and  body,  to  the 
keeping  of  another  while  life  shall  last ;  and  this,  or 
something  like  this,  reserving  the  supreme  claim  of 
duty  to  the  Creator,  is  the  matrimonial  contract.  In 
individual  cases  it  may  be  done  without  thought  or 
distress,  but  surveyed  objectively,  and  carried  out  into 
a  number  of  instances,  it  is  so  tremendous  an  under- 
taking, that  nature  seems  to  sink  under  its  responsi- 
bilities. When  the  Christian  binds  himself  by  vows 
to  a  religious  life,  he  makes  a  surrender  to  Him  who  is 
all-perfect,  and  whom  he  may  unreservedly  trust. 
Moreover,  looking  at  that  surrender  on  its  human 
side,  he  has  the  safeguard  of  distinct  provisos  and 
regulations,  and  of  the  principles  of  theology,  to  secure 
him  against  tyranny  on  the  part  of  his  superiors. 
But  what  shall  be  his  encouragement  to  make  himself 
over,  without  condition  or  stipulation,  as  an  absolute 
property,  to  a  fallible  being,  and  that  not  for  a  season, 
but  for  life  ?  The  mind  shrinks  from  such  a  sacrifice, 
and  demands  that,  as  religion  enjoins  it,  religion 
should  sanction  and  bless  it.  It  instinctively  desires 
that  either  the  bond  should  be  dissoluble,  or  that  the 
subjects  of  it  sliould  be  sacrameutally  strengthened  to 
preserve  it.  "  So  help  me  God,"  the  formula  of  every 
oath,  is  emphatically  necessary  here. 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      97 

But  Agellius  is  contemplating  a  superhuman  en- 
gagement without  superhuman  assistance;  and  that, 
in  a  state  of  society  in  which  public  opinion,  which  in 
some  sense  compensates  for  the  absence  of  religion, 
supplied  human  motives,  not  for,  but  against  keeping 
it,  and  with  one  who  had  given  no  indication  that  she 
understood  what  marriage  meant.  No  wonder,  then, 
that,  in  spite  of  his  simplicity,  his  sanguine  tempe- 
rament, and  his  delusion,  the  more  he  thought  of 
the  step  he  had  taken,  the  more  unsatisfactory  he 
found  it,  and  the  nearer  he  grew  to  the  time  Vvhen  he 
must  open  the  subject  with  Aristo,  the  less  he  felt  able 
to  do  so.  In  consequence  he  was  in  a  distress  of  mind, 
as  he  ascended  the  staircase  which  ended  in  his  friend's 
lodging,  to  which  his  anxiety,  as  he  mounted  the  hill 
on  the  other  side  of  the  city,  was  tranquillity  itself ; 
and,  except  that  he  was  coming  by  engagement,  he 
would  have  turned  back,  and  for  the  time  at  least  have 
put  the  whole  subject  from  his  thoughts.  Tet  even 
then,  as  often  as  Callista  rose  in  his  mind's  eye,  his 
scruples  and  misgivings  vanished  before  the  beauty  of 
that  image,  as  mists  before  the  sun ;  and  when  he 
actually  stood  in  her  sweet  presence,  it  seemed  as  if 
some  secret  emanation  from  her  flowed  in  upon  his 
heart,  and  he  stood  breathless  and  giddy  under  the 
intensity  of  the  fascination. 

However,  the  reader  must  not  suppose  that  in  the 
third  century  of  our  era  such  negotiations,  as  that 
which  now  seems  to  be  on  the  point  of  coming  off 
between  Callista  and  Agellius,  were  embellished  with 
those  transcendent  sentiments  and  that  magnificent 
ceremonial  with  which  chivalry  has  invested  them  in 
these  latter  ages.  There  was  little  occasion  then  for 
fine  speaking  or  exquisite  deportment;  and  if  there 
had  been,  we,  who  are  the  narrators  of  these  hitherto 
unrecorded  transactions,  should  have  been  utterly 
unable  to  do  justice  to  them.  At  that  time  of  day  the 
Christian  had  too  much  simplicity,  the  heathen  too 
little  of  real  delicacy,  to  indulge  in  the  sublimities  of 


98  CAILISTA ; 

modern  love-malting,  at  least  as  it  is  found  in  novels  ; 
and  in  the  case  before  us  both  gentleman  and  lady 
v^-ill  be  thought,  we  consider,  sadly  matter  of  fact,  or 
rather  semi-barbarous,  bv  the  votaries  of  what  is  just 
now  called  European  civilization. 

On  Agellius's  entering  the  room,  Aristo  was  pacing 
to  and  fro  in  some  discomposure  ;  however,  he  ran  up 
to  his  friend,  embraced  him,  and,  looking  at  him  with 
significance,  congratulated  him  on  his  good  looks. 
"  There  is  more  fire  in  your  eye,"  he  said,  "  dear 
AgelUus,  and  more  eloquence  in  the  turn  of  your  lip, 
than  I  have  ever  yet  seen.  A  new  spirit  is  in  you. 
So  you  are  determined  to  come  out  of  your  solitude. 
That  you  should  have  been  able  to  exist  in  it  so  long 
is  the  wonderment  to  me." 

Agellius  had  recovered  himself,  yet  he  dared  not 
look  again  on  Callista.  "  Do  not  jest,  Aristo,"  he  said ; 
"  I  am  come,  as  you  know,  to  talk  to  you  about  your 
sister.  I  have  brought  her  a  present  of  flowers;  they 
are  my  best  present,  or  rather  not  mine,  but  the  birth 
of  the  opening  year,  as  fair  and  fragrant  as  herself." 

"  "We  will  offer  them  to  our  Pallas  Athene,"  said  his 
friend,  "  to  whom  we  artists  are  especially  devout."  And 
he  would  have  led  Agellius  on,  and  made  him  place 
them  in  her  niche  in  the  opposite  wall. 

"I  am  more  serious  than  you  are,"  said  Agellius; 
"  and  I  have  brought  the  best  my  garden  contains  as 
an  offering  to  your  sister.  She  will  not  think  I  bring 
them  for  any  other  purpose.  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 
he  continued,  as  he  saw  his  friend  take  down  his  broad 
^etasus. 

"  Why,"  answered  Aristo,  "  since  I  am  so  poor  an 
interpreter  of  your  meaning,  you  can  dispense  with 
me  altogether.  I  will  leave  you  to  speak  for  yourself; 
and,  meanwhile,  will  go  and  see  what  old  Dromo  has 
to  tell,  before  the  sun  is  too  high  in  the  heavens." 

Saying  this,  with  a  half-imploring,  half-satirical  look 
at  his  sister,  he  set  off  to  the  barber's  at  the  Forum. 

Agellius  took  up  the  flowers,  and  laid  them  on  the 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIKD  CENTUEY.      99 

table  before  her,  as  she  sat  at  work,  "  Do  you  accept 
my  flowers,  Callista  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Fair  and  fragraot,  like  myself,  are  they?"  she 
made  reply.  "  Give  them  to  me."  She  took  them, 
and  bent  over  them.  "The  blushing  rose,"  she  said 
gravely,  "  the  stately  lily,  the  royal  carnation,  the 
golden  moly,  the  purple  amaranth,  the  green  bryon, 
the  diosanthos,  the  sertula,  the  sweet  modest  saliunca, 
fit  emblems  of  Callista.  Well,  in  a  few  hours  they 
will  have  faded  ;  yes,  they  will  get  more  and  more  like 
her." 

She  paused  and  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face,  and 
then  continued,  "  Agellius,  I  once  had  a  slave  who 
belonged  to  your  religion.  She  had  been  born  in  a 
Christian  family,  and  came  into  my  possession  on  her 
master's  death.  She  was  unlike  any  one  I  have  seen 
before  or  since;  she  cared  for  nothing,  yet  was  not 
morose,  or  peevish,  or  hard-hearted.  She  died  young 
in  my  service.  Shortly  before  her  end  she  had  a 
dream.  She  saw  a  company  of  bright  shades,  clothed 
in  white,  like  the  Hours  which  circle  round  the  god  of 
day.  They  were  crowned  with  flowers,  and  they  said 
to  each  other,  '  She  ought  to  have  a  token  too.'  So 
they  took  her  hand,  and  led  her  to  a  most  beautiful 
lady,  as  stately  as  Juno,  and  as  sweet  as  Ariadne,  so 
radiant  in  countenance  that  they  themselves  suddenly 
looked  like  Ethiopians  by  the  side  of  her.  She  too 
was  crowned  with  flowers,  and  these  so.  dazzling  that 
they  might  be  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  the  gems  of 
Asia,  for  what  Chione  could  tell.  And  that  fair 
goddess  (angel  you  call  her)  said,  '  My  dear,  here  is 
something  for  you  from  my  son.  He  sends  you  by 
me  a  red  rose  for  your  love,  a  white  lily  for  your 
chastity,  purple  violets  to  strew  your  grave,  and  green 
palms  to  flourish  over  it.'  Is  this  the  reason  why  you 
give  me  flowers,  Agellius,  that  I  may  rank  with 
Chione  ?  and  is  this  their  interpretation  ?  " 

"  Callista,"  he  answered,  "  it  is  my  heart's  most 
fervent  wish,  it  is  my  mind's  vivid  anticipation,  that 
h2 


100  CALLISTA  ; 

the  day  may  come  wlien  you  will  receive  such  a  crown, 
nay,  a  brighter  one." 

"  And  you  are  come,  of  course,  to  philosophize  to  me, 
and  to  put  me  in  the  way  of  dying  Hlje  Chione,"  she 
made  answer.  "  I  implore  your  pardon.  You  are 
offering  me  flowers,  it  seems,  not  for  a  bridal  wreath, 
but  for  a  funeral  urn." 

"  Is  it  wonderful,"  said  Agellius,  "  that  the  two 
wishes  should  have  gone  together  in  my  heart ;  and 
that  while  I  trusted  and  prayed  that  you  might  have 
the  same  Master  in  heaven  as  I  have  myself,  I  also 
hoped  you  would  have  the  same  service,  the  same  aims, 
the  same  home,  upon  earth  ?  " 

"  And  that  you  should  speak  one  word  for  your 
Master,  and  two  for  yourself,"  she  retorted. 

"  It  has  been  by  feeling  how  much  you  could  be  to 
me,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  have  been  led  to  think  how 
much  my  Master  may  be  doing  for  you  already,  and 
how  much  in  time  to  come  you  might  do  for  Him. 
Callista,  do  not  urge  me  with  your  Greek  subtlety,  or 
expect  me  to  analyze  my  feelings  more  precisely  than 
I  have  the  ability  to  do.  May  I  calmly  tell  you  the 
state  of  my  mind,  as  I  do  know  it,  and  will  you  pa- 
tiently listen  ?  " 

She  signified  her  willingness,  and  he  continued  : 
"  This  only  I  know,"  he  said,  "  what  I  have  experienced 
ever  since  I  first  heard  you  converse,  that  there  is 
between  you  and  me  so  strange  a  unity  of  thought, 
that  I  should  have  deemed  it  quite  impossible,  before 
I  found  it  actually  to  exist,  between  any  two  persons 
whatever ;  and  which,  widely  as  we  are  separated  in 
opinion  and  habit,  and  differently  as  we  have  been 
educated,  is  to  me  inexplicable.  1  find  it  difficult  to 
explain  what  I  mean  ;  we  disagree  certainly  on  the 
most  important  subjects,  yet  there  is  an  unaccountable 
correspondence  in  the  views  we  take  of  things,  in  our 
impressions,  in  the  line  in  which  our  minds  move, 
and  the  issues  to  w^hich  they  come,  in  our  judgment  of 
what  is  great   and  little,  and  the  manner  in  wliich 


A    SKETCH    or    THE    THIRD    CEIS^TURY.  101 

objects  aiFect  our  feelings,  When  I  speak  fco  my 
uncle,  when  I  speak  to  your  brother,  I  do  not  under- 
stand them,  nor  they  me.  We  are  moving  in  different 
spiieres,  and  I  am  solitary,  however  much  they  talk. 
But,  to  my  astonishment,  I  find  between  you  and  me 
one  language.  Is  it  wonderful,  that  in  proportion  to 
my  astonishment  I  am  led  to  refer  it  to  one  cause, 
and  tliink  that  one  Master  Hand  must  have  engraven 
those  lines  on  the  soul  of  each  of  us  ?  Is  it  wonderful 
that  I  should  fancy  that  He  who  has  made  us  alike, 
has  made  us  for  each  other,  and  that  the  very  same 
persuasives  by  which  I  bring  you  to  cast  your  eyes 
on  me,  may  draw  you  also  to  cast  yourself  in  adoration 
at  the  feet  of  my  Master  ?  " 

For  an  instant  tears  seemed  about  to  start  from 
Callista's  eyes,  but  she  repressed  the  emotion,  if 
it  was  such,  and  answered  with  impetuosity,  "  Your 
Master !  who  is  your  Master  ?  what  know  I  of  your 
Master  ?  what  have  you  ever  told  me  of  your  Master  ? 
I  suppose  it  is  an  esoteric  doctrine  which  I  am  not 
worthy  to  know  ;  but  so  it  is,  here  you  have  b6en 
again  and  again,  and  talked  freely  of  many  things,  yet 
I  am  in  as  much  darkness  about  your  Master  fts  if  I 
had  never  seen  you.  I  know  He  died ;  I  know  too 
that  Christians  say  He  lives.  In  some  fortunate 
island,  I  suppose  ;  for,  when  I  have  asked,  you  have 
got  rid  of  the  subject,  as  best  you  could.  You  have 
talked  about  your  law  and  your  various  duties,  and 
what  you  consider  right,  and  what  is  forbidden,  and  of 
some  of  the  old  writers  of  your  sect,  and  of  the  Jews 
before  them ;  but  if,  as  you  imply,  my  wants  and 
aspirations  are  the  same  as  yours,  what  have  you  done 
towards  satisfying  them  ?  what  have  you  done  for  that 
Master  towards  whom  you  now  propose  to  lead  me  ? 
No  !  "  she  continued,  starting  up,  '"you  have  watched 
those  wants  and  aspirations  for  yourself,  not  for  Him  ; 
vou  have  taken  interest  iu  them,  you  have  cherished 
"them,  as  if  you  were  the  author,  you  the  object  of 
them.     You  profess  to  believe  in  One  True  God,  and 


102  CALLISTA ; 

to  reject  every  other ;  and  now  yon  are  implying  that 
the  Hand,  the  Shadow  of  that  God  ia  on  my  mind  and 
heart.  AVho  is  this  God  ?  where  ?  how  ?  in  what  ? 
O  Agellius,  you  have  stood  in  the  way  of  Him,  ready 
to  speak  of  yourself,  using  Him  as  a  means  to  an 
end." 

"O  Callista,"  said  Agellius  in  an  agitated  voice, 
■when  he  could  speak,  "  do  my  ears  hear  aright  ?  do 
you  really  wish  to  be  taught  who  the  true  God  is  ?" 

"No;  mistake  me  not,"  she  cried  passionately,  "I 
have  no  such  wish.  I  could  not  be  of  your  religion. 
Ye  gods  !  how  have  I  been  deceived !  I  thought  every 
Chri.^tian  was  like  Chione.  I  thought  there  could 
not  be  a  cold  Christian.  Chione  spoke  as  if  a  Chris- 
tian's first  thoughts  were  good  will  to  others ;  as  if 
his  state  were  of  such  blessedness,  that  his  dearest 
heart's  wisli  was  to  bring  others  into  it.  Here  is  a 
man,  who,  so  far  from  feeling  himself  blest,  thinks  I  can 
bless  him  ;  comes  to  me, — me,  Callista,  a  herb  of  the 
field,  a  poor  weed,  exposed  to  every  wind  of  heaven, 
and  shrivelling  before  the  fierce  sun,  — to  me  he  comes 
to  repose  his  heart  upon.  But  as  for  any  blessedness 
be  has  to  show  me,  why,  since  he  does  not  feel  any 
himself,  no  wonder  he  has  none  to  give  away.  I 
thought  a  Christian  was  superior  to  time  and  place ; 
but  all  is  hollow.  Alas,  alas !  I  am  young  in  life  to 
feel  the  force  of  that  saying,  with  which  sages  go  out  of 
it,  'Vanity  and  hollowness!'  Agellius,  when  I  first 
heard  you  were  a  Christian,  how  my  heart  beat !  I 
thought  of  her  who  was  gone ;  and  at  first  I  thought  I 
saw  her  in  you,  as  if  there  had  been  some  magical 
sympathy  between  you  and  her;  and  I  hoped  that 
from  you  I  might  have  learned  more  of  that  strange 
strength  which  my  nature  needs,  and  which  she  told 
me  she  possessed.  Tour  words,  your  manner,  your 
looks,  were  altogether  different  from  others  who  came 
near  me.  But  so  it  was ;  you  came,  and  you  went, 
and  came  again:  I  thought  it  reserve,  I  thought  it 
timidity,  I  thought   it   the  caution  of  a  persecuted 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     103 

sect ;  but  O  mj  disappointment,  when  first  I  saw  in 
you  indications  that  you  were  thinking  of  me  only  as 
others  think,  and  felt  towards  me  as  others  may  feel; 
that  you  were  aiming  at  me,  not  at  your  Grod ;  that 
you  had  much  to  tell  of  yourself,  but  nothing  of  Him ! 
Time  was  I  might  have  been  led  to  worship  you, 
Agellius ;  you  have  hindered  it  by  worshipping  me.''' 

It  is  not  often,  we  suppose,  that  such  deep  offence 
is  given  to  a  lady  by  the  sort  of  admiration  of  which 
Agellius  had  been  guilty  in  the  case  of  Callista ;  how- 
ever, startled  as  he  might  be,  and  startled  and  stung 
he  was,  there  was  too  much  earnestness  in  her  dis- 
tress, too  much  of  truth  in  her  representations,  too 
much  which  came  home  to  his  heart  and  conscience, 
to  allow  of  his  being  afironted  or  irritated.  She  had 
but  supplied  the  true  interpretation  of  the  misgiving 
which  had  haunted  him  that  morning,  from  the  time 
he  set  out  till  the  moment  of  his  entering  the  room. 
Jucundus  some  days  back  had  readily  acquiesced  in 
his  assurance  that  he  was  not  inconsistent ;  but  Cal- 
lista had  not  been  so  indulgent,  though  really  more 
merciful.  There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  or 
rather  in  her  outpouring ;  each  had  bitter  thoughts, 
and  silently  devoured  them.  At  length  she  began 
again : 

"  So  the  religion  of  Chione  is  a  dream ;  now  for 
four  years  I  had  hoped  it  was  a  reality.  All  things 
again  are  vanity ;  I  had  hoped  there  was  something 
somewhere  more  than  I  could  see;  but  there  is 
nothing.  Here  am  I  a  living,  breathing  woman,  with 
an  overflowing  heart,  with  keen  affections,  with  a 
yearning  after  some  object  which  may  possess  me.  I 
cannot  exist  without  something  to  rest  upon.  I  can- 
not fall  back  upon  that  drear,  forlorn  state,  which 
philosophers  call  wisdom,  and  moralists  call  virtue. 
I  cannot  enrol  myself  a  votary  of  that  cold  Moon, 
whose  arrows  do  but  freeze  me.  I  cannot  sympathize 
in  that  majestic  band  of  sisters  whom  Bome  has 
placed  under  the  tutelage  of  Vesta.     I  must  have 


104  CALLISTA ; 


something  to  love;  love  is  my  life.  Why  do  you 
come  to  me,  Agellius,  with  your  every-day  gallantry  ? 
Can  you  compete  with  the  noble  Grecian  forms  which 
have  passed  before  my  eyes  ?  Is  your  voice  more 
manly,  are  its  tones  more  eloquent,  than  those  which 
have  thrilled  through  my  ears  since  I  ceased  to  be  a 
cliild?  Can  you  add  perfume  to  the  feast  by  your 
wit,  or  pour  sunsliine  over  grot  and  rushing  stream 
by  your  smile  ?  What  can  you  give  me  ?  There  was 
one  thing  which  I  thought  you  could  have  given  me, 
better  than  any  thing  else;  but  it  is  a  shadow.  You 
have  nothing  to  give.  Ton  have  thrown  me  back 
upon  my  dreary,  dismal  self,  and  the  deep  wounds  of  my 
memory.  .  .  .  Poor,  poor  Agellius !  but  it  was  not  his 
fault,  it  could  not  be  helped,"  she  continued,  as  if  in 
thought ;  "  it  could  not  be  helped ;  for,  if  he  had 
nothing  ro  give,  how  could  he  give  it  ?  After  all,  he 
wanted  something  to  love,  just  as  I  did  ;  and  he  could 
find  nothing  better  than  me.  .  .  .  And  they  thought  to 
persuade  her  to  spend  herself  upon  him,  as  she  had 
spent  herself  upon  others.  Yes,  it  was  Jucundus 
and  Aristo, — my  brother,  even  my  own  brother. 
They  thought  not  of  we."  Here  her  tears  gushed 
out  violently,  and  she  abandoned  herself  to  a  burst  of 
emotion.  "They  were  thinking  of  him.  I  had  hoped 
he  could  lead  me  to  what  was  higher;  but  woe,  woe !  " 
she  cried,  wringing  her  hands,  "they  thought  I  was 
only  fit  to  bring  him  low.  Well ;  after  all,  is  Callista 
really  good  for  much  more  than  the  work  they  have 
set  her  to  do?" 

She  was  absorbed  in  her  own  misery,  in  an  intense 
sense  of  degradation,  in  a  keen  consciousness  of  the 
bondage  of  nature,  in  a  despair  of  ever  finding  what 
alone  could  give  meaning  to  her  existence,  and  an 
object  to  her  intellect  and  aftections.  And  Agellius 
on  the  other  hand,  what  surprise,  remorse,  and  humi- 
liation came  upon  him !  It  was  a  strange  contrast, 
the  complaint  of  nature  unregenerate  on  the  one 
hand,  the  self-reproach  of  nature  regenerate  and  lapsing 


A    SKETCH    OF   THE    THIED    CEITTUKT.  105 

on  the  other.  At  last  he  spoke,  and  they  were  his 
last  words. 

"  Callista,"  he  said,  "whatever  injury  I  may  have 
unwillingly  inflicted  upon  you,  you  at  least  have  re- 
turned me  good  for  evil,  and  have  made  yourself  my 
benefactress.  Certainly,  I  now  know  myself  better 
than  I  did ;  and  He  who  has  made  iise  of  you  as  His 
instrument  of  mercy  towards  me,  will  not  forget  to 
reward  you  tenfold.  One  word  will  I  say  for  myself; 
nay,  not  for  myself,  but  for  my  Master.  Do  not  for 
an  instant  suppose  that  what  you  thought  of  the 
Christian  religion  is  not  true.  It  reveals  a  present 
Grod,  who  satisfies  every  affection  of  the  heart,  yet 
keeps  it  pure.  I  serve  a  Master,"  he  continued,  blush- 
iug  from  modesty  and  earnestness  as  he  spoke,  "  I 
serve  a  Master  whose  love  is  stronger  than  created 
love  God  help  my  inconsistency  !  but  I  never  meant 
to  love  you  as  I  love  Him.  You  are  destined  for  His 
love.  I  commit  you  to  Him,  your  true  Lord,  whom  I 
never  should  have  rivalled,  for  whom  I  ought  simply 
to  have  pleaded.  Though  I  am  not  worthy  to  approach 
you,  I  shall  trace  you  at  a  distance,  who  knows  where  ? 
perhaps  even  to  the  prison  and  to  the  arena  of  those 
who  confess  the  Saviour  of  men,  and  dare  to  suffer 
and  die  for  His  name.  And  now,  farewell;  to  His 
keeping  and  that  of  His  holy  martyrs  I  commit  you." 

He  did  not  trust  himself  to  look  at  her  as  he  turned 
to  the  door,  and  left  the  room.  • 


106  caliista; 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  first  stages  of  repentance  are  but  a  fever,  in 
which  there  is  restlessness  and  thirst,  hot  and  cold 
fits,  vague,  dreary  dreams,  long  darkness  which  seems 
destined  never  to  have  a  morning,  effort  without  re- 
sult, and  collapse  without  reaction.  These  symptoms 
had  already  manifested  themselves  in  Agellius ;  he 
spoke  calmly  to  Callista^  and  sustained  himself  by  the 
claims  of  the  moment;  but  no  sooner  had  he  left  the 
room,  and  was  thrown  upon  himself,  than  his  self- 
possession  left  him,  and  he  fell  into  an  agony,  or 
rather  anarchy  of  tumultuous  feelings.  Then  rose  up 
before  his  mind  a  hundred  evil  spectres,  not  less 
scaring  and  more  real  than  the  dreams  of  the  deli- 
rious. He  thought  of  the  singular  favour  which  had 
been  shown  him  in  his  reception  into  the  Christian 
fold,  and  that  at  so  early  a  date ;  of  the  myriads  all 
around  who  continued  in  heathenism  as  they  had  been 
born,  and  of  his  utter  insensibility  to  his  privilege. 
He  felt  how  much  would  be  required  of  him,  and  how 
little  hitherto  had  been  forthcoming.  He  thought  of 
the  parable  of  the  barren  fig-tree,  and  the  question 
was  whispered  in  his  ear  whether  it  would  not  be  ful- 
filled in  him.  He  asked  himself  in  what  his  heart  and 
his  conduct  differed  from  the  condition  of  a  fairly 
virtuous  heathen.  xA.ud  then  he  thought  of  Callista 
in  contrast  with  himself,  as  having  done  more  with 
the  mite  which  she  possessed  than  he  had  done  with 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURr.     107 

many  pounds.  He  felt  that  Tyre  and  Sidon  xvere 
rising  up  against  him  in  her  person ;  or  rather  how 
the  saying  promised  to  be  verified  in  her,  that  strangers 
should  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  from  far  countries, 
while  those  who  were  the  heirs  should  be  thrust  out. 
He  had  been  rebuked  by  one  to  whom  he  rather 
ought  to  have  brought  self-knowledge  and  compunc- 
tion, and  she  was  sensitively  alive  to  his  want  of 
charity.  She  had  felt  bitterly  that  she  was  left  in 
ignorance  and  sin  by  one  who  had  what  she  had  not. 
She  had  accused  him  of  being  zealous  enough  to  win 
her  to  himself,  when  he  had  shown  no  zeal  at  all  to 
win  her  to  her  Maker.  If  she  was  brought  to  the 
truth  at  length,  there  would  be  no  thanks  to  him  for 
the  ha})py  change ;  yet,  though  he  had  predicted  it, 
alas!  was  it  likely  that  it  would  be  granted?  Had 
she  not  had  her  opportunity,  which  was  lost  because 
he  had  not  improved  it?  Yes,  she  had  with  a  deli- 
berate mind  and  in  set  words  put  aside  and  taken 
leave  of  that  which  she  once  desired  and  hoped  might 
have  been  her  own,  sorrowfully  indeed,  but  peremp- 
torily, as  firmly  persisting  in  rejecting  as  she  might 
have  persisted  in  maintaining  it ;  and,  if  she  died  in 
infidelity,  horrible  thought!  would  not  the  burden  lie 
on  him,  and  was  this  the  love  which  he  pretended  to 
entertain  for  her  ? 

What  was  he  living  for?  what  was  the  work  he  had 
set  himself  to  do  ?  Did  he  live  to  plant  flowers,  or  to 
rear  fruit,  to  maintain  himself  and  to  make  money  ? 
AVas  that  a  time  to  pride  himself  on  vineyards  and 
oliveyards,  when,  like  Elias,  he  was  one  among  myriads 
who  were  in  unbelief?  Ah,  the  difference  between  a 
saint  and  him!  Of  what  good  was  he  on  earth  ?  why 
should  not  he  die  ?  why  so  chary  of  his  life  ?  why 
preserve  his  wretched  life  at  all  ?  Could  he  not  do 
more  by  giving  it  than  by  keeping  it  ?  Might  it  not 
have  been  given  him  perchance  for  the  very  purpose 
that  he  might  sacrifice  it  for  Him  who  had  given  it  ? 
He  had  been  timid  about  making  a  profession  of  hia 


108  CALLISTA ; 

faith,  whicli  might  have  led  to  prison  and  death ;  but 
perhaps  the  verj^  object  of  his  life  in  the  divine  pur- 
pose, the  very  reason  of  his  birth,  had  been,  that,  as 
soon  as  he  was  grown,  he  should  die  for  the  truth. 
He  might  have  been  cut  off  by  disease :  he  was  not ; 
and  why,  except  that  he  miglit  merit  in  his  death,  and 
that  what,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  was  a  mere 
suffering,  might  in  his  case  be  an  act  of  service  ?  His 
death  might  have  been  the  conversion  of  thousands,  of 
Callista ;  and  the  fewness  of  his  days  here  would  have 
been  his  claim  to  a  blessed  eternity  hereafter. 

Nor  Callista  alone ;  he  had  natural  friends,  with 
nearer  claims  upon  his  charity.  Had  he  been  other 
than  he  was,  he  might  have  prevailed  with  his  uncle ; 
at  least  he  might  have  taught  him  to  respect  the 
Christian  Faith  and  Name,  and  restrained  him  from 
daring  to  attempt,  for  he  now  saw  that  it  was  an 
attempt,  to  seduce  him  into  sin.  He  might  have 
lodged  a  good  seed  in  his  heart,  which  in  the  hour  of 
sickness  might  have  germinated.  And  his  brother 
again  had  learned  to  despise  him  ;  indeed  he  had  raised 
in  every  one  who  came  near  him  the  suspicion  that  he 
was  not  really  a  Christian,  that  he  Avas  an  apostate 
(he  could  not  help  uttering  a  cry  of  anguish  as  he 
used  the  word),  an  apostate  from  that  which  was  his 
real  life  and  supreme  worship. 

Why  did  he  not  at  once  go  into  the  Basilica  or  the 
G-ymnasium,  and  proclaim  himself  a  Christian  ?  There 
were  rumours  abroad  that  the  new  emperor  was  be- 
ginning a  new  policy  towards  his  religion :  let  him 
inaugurate  it  in  Agellius.  Might  he  not  thus  per- 
chance wash  out  his  sin  ?  He  would  be  led  into  the 
amphitheatre,  as  his  betters  had  been  led  before  him ; 
the  crowds  would  yell,  and  the  lion  would  be  let  loose 
upon  him.  He  would  confront  the  edict,  tear  it  down, 
be  seized  by  the  apparitor,  and  hurried  to  the  rack 
or  the  slow  fire.  Callista  would  hear  of  it,  and 
would  learn  at  length  he  was  not  quite  the  craven  and 
the  recreant  which  she  thought  him. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     109 

-  "Now  his  thouglits  took  a  turn.  Callista !  what  was 
Callista  to  bim  ?  "Why  should  he  think  of  her,  when 
he  was  girding  him  to  martyrdom  ?  AVas  she  to  be 
tlie  motive  which  was  to  animate  him,  and  her  praise 
his  reward  ?  Alas,  alas !  could  he  gain  heaven  hj 
pleasing  a  li^eathen  ?  "  But  to  whom  then,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  am  I  to  look  up  ?  who  is  to  give  me  sym- 
pathy ?  who  is  to  encourage,  to  advise  me  ?  0  my 
i^ither,  pity  me !  a  feeble  child,  a  poor,  outcast,  wan- 
dering sheep,  away  from  the  fold,  torn  by  the  briars 
and  thorns,  and  no  one  to  bind  his  wounds  and  retrrce 
his  stena  for  him.  AVhy  am  I  thus  alone  in  the  world  ? 
why  ai]R  without  a  pastor  and  guide  ?  Ah,  was  not 
this  my  fault  in  remaining  in  Sicca  ?  I  have  no  tie 
here ;  let  me  go  to  Carthage,  or  to  Tagaste,  or  to 
Madaura,  or  to  Hippo.  I  am  not  fit  to  walk  the 
world  by  myself;  I  am  too  simple,  and  am  no  match 
for  its  artifices." 

Here  another  thought  took  possession  of  him,  which 
had  as  yet  but  crossed  his  mind,  and  it  made  him 
colour  up  with  confusion  and  terror.  "  They  were 
laying  a  plot  for  me,"  he  said,  "  my  uncle  and  Aristo ; 
and  it  is  Callista  who  has  defeated  it."  And  as  he 
spoke,  he  felfc  how  much  he  owed  to  her,  and  how 
dangerous  too  it  was  to  think  of  his  debt.  Yet  it 
would  not  be  wrong  to  pray  for  her ;  she  had  marred 
the  device  of  which  she  was  to  have  been  the  agent. 
"Laqueus  contritus  est,  et  nos  liberati  sumus :"  the 
net  was  broken,  and  he  was  delivered.  She  had  refused 
his  devotion,  that  he  might  give  it  to  his  God ;  and 
now  he  would  only  think  of  her,  and  whisper  her 
name,  when  he  was  kneeling  before  the  Blessed  Mary, 
his  advocate.  O  that  that  second  and  better  Eve, 
who  brought  salvation  into  the  world,  as  our  first 
mother  brought  death,  0  that  she  might  bear  Callista's 
name  in  remembrance,  and  get  it  written  in  the  book 
of  life! 

It  was  high  noon;  and  all  this  time  Agellius  was 
walking  iu  his  present  excited  mood,  without  covering 


110  CALLTSTA  J 

to  his  head,  under  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun,  not 
knowing  which  way  he  went,  and  retracing  his  steps, 
as  he  wandered  about  at  random,  with  a  vague  notion 
he  was  going  homewards.  The  few  persons  whom  ho 
met,  creeping  about  under  the  shadow  of  the  lofty 
houses,  or  under  the  porticoes  of  the  temples,  looked  at 
him  with  Avonder,  and  thought  him  furious  or  deranged. 
The  shafts  of  the  sun  were  not  so  hot  as  his  own 
thoughts,  or  as  the  blood  which  shot  to  and  fro  so 
fiercely  in  his  veins ;  but  they  were  working  fearfully 
on  his  physical  frame,  though  they  could  not  increase 
the  fever  of  his  mind.  He  had  come  to  th^Forum  ; 
the  market  people  were  crouching  under  theW  booths, 
or  the  shelter  of  their  baskets.  The  riffraff  of  the 
city,  who  lived  by  their  wits,  or  by  odd  jobs,  or  on 
the  windfalls  of  the  market;  lazy  fellows  who  did 
nothing,  who  did  not  move  till  hunger  urged  them, 
like  the  brute ;  half-idiotic  chewers  of  opium,  ragged 
or  rather  naked  children,  the  butcher  boys  and  scaven- 
gers of  the  temples,  lay  at  length  at  the  mouth  of  the 
caverns  occasioned  by  the  precipitous  rock,  or  under 
the  Arch  of  Triumph,  or  amid  the  columns  of  the  Gym- 
nasium and  the  Heracleum,  or  in  the  doorways  of  the 
shops.  A  scattering  of  beggars  were  lying,  poor 
creatures,  on  their  backs  in  the  blazing  sun,  reckless  of 
the  awful  maladies,  the  fits,  the  seizures,  and  the 
sudden  death  which  might  be  the  consequence. 

Numbers  out  of  this  mixed  multitude  were  asleep : 
some  were  looking  with  dull  listless  eyes  at  the  still 
scene,  or  at  any  accidental  movements  w'hich  might 
vary  it.  They  saw^  a  figure  coming  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  wildly  passing  by.  Just  then  Agellius  was  diverted 
from  his  painful  meditations  by  hearing  one  of  these 
fellows  say  to  another,  as  he  roused  from  a  sort  of 
doze,  "  That's  one  of  them.  We  know  them  all,  but 
xery  poor  pickings  can  be  got  out  of  them ;  but  he 
has  more  than  most.  They're  a  low  set  in  Sicca." 
And  then  the  man  cried  out,  "Look  sharp,  young 
chap !  the  Euries  are  at  your  heels,  and  the  Fates  are 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUBT.     Ill 

going  before  joii.  Look  tliere  at  the  emperor;  he  is 
looking  at  you,  as  grim  and  sour  as  you  could  wish 
him."  He  spoke  of  the  equestrian  statue  of  Severus 
before  the  Basilica  on  the  right ;  and,  attracted  bv  his 
words,  Agellius  went  up  to  a  board  which  was  fixed 
to  its  base.  It  was  an  imperial  edict,  and  it  ran  as 
follows : — 

"  Cneius  Trnjanus  Decius,  Augustus  ;  and  Quintus 
Herennius  Etruscus  Decius,  Caesar;  Emperors,  un- 
conquerable and  pious  ;  by  united  council  these  : — 

"  Whereas  we  have  experienced  the  benefits  and  the 
gifts  of  the  gods,  and  do  also  enjoy  the  victory  which 
they  have  giv^en  us  over  our  enemies,  and  moreover 
salubrity  of  seasons,  and  abundance  in  the  fruits  of 
the  earth  ; 

"  Therefore,  acknowledging  the  aforesaid  as  our 
benefactors  and  the  providers  of  those  things  which 
are  necessary  for  the  commonwealth,  we  make  this  our 
decree,  that  every  class  of  the  state,  freemen  and 
slaves,  the  army  and  civilians,  offer  to  the  gods  ex- 
piatory sacrifices,  falling  down  in  supplication  before 
them. 

"  And  if  any  one  shall  presume  to  disobey  this  our 
divine  command,  which  we  unite  in  promulgating,  we 
order  that  man  to  be  thrown  into  chains,  and  to  be 
subjected  to  various  tortures. 

"  And  should  he  thereupon  be  persuaded  to  reverse 
his  disobedience,  he  shall  receive  from  us  no  slight 
honours. 

"  But  should  he  hold  out  in  opposition,  first  he 
shall  have  many  tortures,  and  then  shall  be  executed 
by  the  sword,  or  thrown  into  the  deep  sea,  or  given  as 
a  prey  to  birds  and  dogs. 

"  And  more  than  all,  if  such  a  person  be  a  professor 
of  tlie  Christian  religion. 

"  Farewell,  and  live  happy." 

The  old  man  in  the  fable  called  on  Death,  and 
Death  made  his  appearance.  AVe  are  very  far  indeed 
from  meaning  that  Agellius  uttered  random  words, 


112  CALLISTA ; 

or  spoke  impatiently,  when  he  just  now  expressed  a 
wish  to  have  the  opportunity  of  dying  for  the  Faith. 
Nevertheless,  Vvhat  now  met  his  eyes  and  was  trans- 
mitted through  them,  sentence  by  sentence,  into  his 
mind,  was  not  certainly  of  a  nature  to  calm  the 
tumult  which  was  busy  in  breast  and  brain  ;— a  sick- 
ness came  over  him,  and  he  staggered  away.  The 
words  of  the  edict  still  met  his  eyes,  and  were  of  a 
bright  red  colour.  The  sun  was  right  before  him,  but 
the  letters  were  in  the  sun,  and  the  sun  in  his  brain. 
He  reeled  and  fell  heavily  on  the  pavement.  No 
notice  was  taken  of  the  occurrence  by  the  spectators 
about  him.  They  lazily  or  curiously  looked  on,  and 
waited  to  see  if  he  would  recover. 

How  long  he  lay  there  lie  could  not  tell,  when  he 
came  to  himself;  if  it  could  really  be  said  to  be  coming 
to  himself  to  have  the  power  of  motion,  and  an  instinct 
that  he  must  move,  and  move  in  one  direction.  He 
managed  to  rise  and  lean  against  the  pedestal  of  the 
statue,  and  its  shade  by  this  time  protected  him. 
Then  an  intense  desire  came  upon  him  to  get  home, 
and  that  desire  gave  him  a  temporary  preternatural 
strength.  It  came  upon  him  as  a  duty  to  leave  ISicca 
for  his  cottage,  and  he  set  oif.  He  had  a  contused 
notion  that  he  must  do  his  duty,  and  go  straight  for- 
ward, and  turn  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left,  and 
stop  no  where,  and  but  move  on  steadily  for  his  true 
home.  But  next  an  impression  came  upon  him  that 
he  was  running  away  from  persecution,  and  that  this 
ought  not  to  be,  and  that  he  ought  to  face  the  enemy, 
or  at  least  not  to  hide  from  him,  but  meekly  wait  for 
him. 

As  he  went  along  the  narrow  streets  which  led 
down  the  hill  towards  the  city  gate  this  thought  came 
so  powerfully  upon  him,  that  at  length  he  sat  down  on 
a  stone  which  projected  from  an  open  shop,  and 
thought  of  surrendering  himself.  He  felt  the  benefit 
of  the  rest,  and  this  he  fancied  to  be  calm  of  con- 
science  consequent  upon  self-surrender  and  resigna- 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      113 

tion.  It  was  a  fruiterer's  stall,  and  the  owner,  seeing 
his  exhaustion,  offered  him  some  slices  of  a  water- 
melon for  his  refreshment.  He  ate  one  of  them,  and 
then  again  a  vague  feeling  came  on  him  that  he  was 
in  danger  of  idolatry,  and  must  protest  against 
idolatry,  and  that  he  ought  not  to  remain  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  temptation.  So,  throwing  down  the 
small  coin  which  was  sufficient  for  payment,  he  con- 
tinued his  journey.  The  rest  and  the  refreshment  of 
the  fruit,  and  the  continued  shade  which  the  narrow 
street  allowed  him,  allayed  the  fever,  and  for  the  time 
recruited  him,  and  he  moved  on  languidly.  The  sun, 
however,  was  still  high  in  heaven,  and  when  he  got 
beyond  the  city  beat  down  upon  his  head  from  a 
cloudless  sky.  He  painfully  toiled  up  the  ascent 
which  led  to  his  cottage.  He  had  nearly  gained  the 
gate  of  his  homestead ;  he  saw  his  old  household 
slave,  born'  in  his  father's  house,  a  Christian  like 
himself,  coming  to  meet  him.  A  dizziness  came  over 
him,  he  lost  his  senses,  and  fell  down  helplessly 
upon  the  bank. 


114  oailista; 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

JucTJKDtrs  was  quite  as  mucli  amused  as  provoked  at 
the  result  of  the  delicate  negotiation  in  which  he  had 
entangled  his  nephew.  It  was  a  gratification  to  him 
to  find  that  its  ill  success  had  been  owing  in  no  respect 
to  any  fault  on  the  side  of  Agellius,  He  had  done  his 
part  without  shrinking,  and  the  view  which  he,  Jucun- 
dus,  had  taken  of  his  state  of  mind,  was  satisfactorily- 
confirmed.  He  had  nothing  to  fear  for  Agellius,  and, 
though  he  had  failed  in  securing  the  guarantee  which 
he  had  hoped  for  his  attachment  to  things  as  they  were, 
yet  in  the  process  of  failure  it  had  been  proved  that 
his  nephew  might  be  trusted  without  it.  And  it  was 
a  question  whether  a  girl  so  full  of  whims  and  caprices 
as  Callista  might  after  all  have  done  him  any  permanent 
good.  The  absurd  notion,  indeed,  of  her  having  a 
leaning  for  Christianity  had  been  refuted  by  her  con- 
duct on  the  occasion ;  still,  who  could  rely  on  a  clever 
and  accomplished  Grreek  ?  There  were  secret  societies 
and  conspiracies  in  abundance,  and  she  might  have 
iuvolved  so  weak  and  innocent  a  fellow  in  some  plans 
against  the  government,  now  or  at  a  future  time ;  or 
might  have  alienated  him  from  his  uncle,  or  in  some 
May  or  other  made  a  fool  of  him,  if  she  had  consented 
to  have  him  for  her  slave.  AVhy  she  had  rejected  so 
eligible  a  suitor,  it  was  now  useless  and  idle  to  inquire  ; 
it  might  be  that  the  haughty  or  greedy  Greek  had 
required  him  to  bid  higher  for  her  favourable  notice.  If 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CEKTUET.      115 

the  negotiation  had  taken  such  a  turn,  then  indeed 
there  was  still  more  gratifying  evidence  of  Agellius 
having  broken  from  his  fantastic  and  peevish  super- 
stition. 

Still,  however,  he  was  not  without  anxiety,  now  that 
the  severe  measures  directed  against  the  Christians 
were  in  progress.  No  overt  act  indeed,  beyond  the 
publication  of  the  edict,  had  been  taken  in  Sicca, — pro- 
bably would  be  taken  at  all.  The  worst  was,  that 
something  must  be  done  to  make  a  show;  he  could 
have  wished  that  some  of  the  multitude  of  townspeople, 
half  suspected  of  Christianity,  had  stood  firm,  and 
suffered  themselves  to  be  tortured  and  executed.  One 
or  two  would  have  been  enough  ;  but  the  magistracy 
got  no  credit  with  the  central  government  for  zeal  and 
activity,  if  no  Christians  were  made  an  example  of. 
Yet  still  it  was  a  question  whether  the  strong  acts  at 
Carthage  and  elsewhere  would  not  suffice,  though  the 
lesser  towns  did  nothing.  At  least,  while  the  popu- 
lace was  quiet,  there  was  nothing  to  press  for  severity. 
There  were  no  rich  men  in  Sicca  to  tempt  the  cupidity 
of  the  informer  or  the  magistrate;  no  political  par- 
tisans among  them,  who  had  made  enemies  with  this 
or  that  class  of  the  community.  But,  supposing  a 
bad  feeling  to  rise  in  the  populace,  supposing  the 
magistrates  to  have  ill-wishers  and  rivals, — and  what 
men  in  power  had  not  ? — who  might  be  glad  to  catch 
them  tripping,  and  make  a  case  against  them  at  Eome, 
why,  it  must  be  confessed  that  Agellius  was  nearly  the 
only  victim  who  could  be  pitched  upon.  He  washed 
Callista  no  harm,  but  if  a  Christian  must  be  found 
and  held  up  in  terrorem,  he  would  rather  it  was  a 
person  like  her,  w^ithout  connexions  and  home,  than 
the  member  of  any  decent  family  of  Sicca,  whose  fair 
fame  would  be  compromised  by  a  catastrophe.  How- 
ever, she  was  not  a  Christian,  and  Agellius  ivas,  at 
least  by  profession  ;  and  his  fear  was  lest  Juba  should 
be  riglit  in  his  estimate  of  his  brother's  character. 
Juba  had  said  that  Agellius  could  be  as  obstinate  as 
i2 


IIQ  CALLISTA  ; 

lie  was  ordinarily  indolent  and  yielding,  and  Jucnndus 
dreaded  lest,  if  he  were  rudely  charged  with  Chr's- 
tianity,  and  bidden  to  renounce  it  under  pain  of 
punishment,  he  would  rebel  against  the  tyrannical 
order,  and  go  to  prison  and  to  deatli  out  of  sheer 
perverseness  or  sense  of  honour. 

With  these  perplexities  before  him,  he  could  find 
nothing  better  than  the  following  plan  of  action, 
which  had  been  in  his  mind  for  some  time.  While  the 
edict  remained  inoperative,  he  would  do  nothing  at  all, 
and  let  Agellius  go  on  with  his  country  occupations, 
M'hich  would  keep  him  out  of  the  way.  But  if  any 
disposition  appeared  of  a  popular  commotion,  or  a 
movement  on  the  part  of  the  magistracy,  he  deter- 
mined to  get  possession  of  Agellius,  and  forcibly  con- 
fine him  in  his  own  house  in  Sicca.  He  hoped  that 
in  the  case  of  one  so  young,  so  uncommitted,  he  should 
have  influence  with  the  municipal  authorities,  or  at 
the  prsetorium,  or  in  the  camp  (for  the  camp  and  the 
prsetorium  were  under  different  jurisdictions  in  the 
proconsulate)  to  keep  Agellius  from  a  public  inquiry 
into  his  religious  tenets,  or,  if  this  could  not  be,  to 
smuggle  him  out  of  the  city.  He  was  ready  to  afiirm 
solemnly  that  his  nephew  was  no  Christian,  though  he 
was  touched  in  the  head,  and,  from  an  afiiection  pa- 
rallel to  hydrophobia,  to  which  the  disciples  of  Galen 
ought  to  turn  their  attention,  was  sent  into  convul- 
sions on  the  sight  of  an  altar.  His  father,  indeed, 
was  a  malignant  old  atheist, — there  was  no  harm  in 
being  angry  with  the  dead, — but  it  was  very  hard  the 
son  should  sufter  for  his  father's  offence.  If  he  must 
be  judged  of  by  his  parents,  let  him  rather  have  the 
advantage  of  the  thorough  loyalty  and  religiousness  of 
his  mother,  a  most  zealous  old  lady,  in  high  repute  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Sicca  for  her  theurgic  know- 
ledge, a  staunch  friend  of  the  imperial  government 
Avhich  had  before  now  been  indebted  to  her  for  im- 
portant information,  and  as  staunch  a  hater  of  the 
Christians.     Such   Avas  the  plan   of  proceedings   re- 


A.    SKETCn    OF    THE    TIIIED    CENTTJRY.  117 

solved  on  hj  Juciindus  before  be  received  tbe  news  of 
bis  nepbew's  serious  malady.  It  did  not  reacb  bim 
till  many  days  after.  He  did  not  go  to  see  bim,  first, 
lest  be  sboLild  be  supposed  to  be  in  communication 
witb  bim  ;  next,  as  baving  no  respect  for  tbat  romantic 
sort  of  generosity  wbicb  risks  tbe  cbances  of  conta- 
gion for  tbe  absurd  ceremony  of  paying  a  compliment. 
It  was  tbus  tbat  Jucundus  addressed  bimself  to  tbe 
present  state  of  affairs,  and  anticipated  tbe  cbances  of 
tbe  future.  Ab  to  Aristo,  be  bas  very  little  personal 
interest  in  tbe  matter.  His  sister  migbt  bave  tbwarted 
bim  in  affairs  wbicb  lay  nearer  bis  beart  tban  tbe 
moral  emancipation  of  Agellius  ;  and  as  sbe  generally 
complied  with  bis  suggestions  and  wisbes,  whatever 
tbey  were,  be  did  not  grudge  ber  liberty  of  action  in 
tbis  instance.  'Nov  bad  tbe  occurrence  wbicb  bad 
taken  place  any  great  visible  effect  upon  Callista 
berself.  She  bad  lost  ber  right  to  be  indignant  with 
ber  brother,  and  sbe  resigned,  or  rather  abandoned 
berself  to  ber  destiny.  Her  better  feelings  bad  been 
brought  out  for  the  moment  in  ber  conversation  with 
Agellius  ;  but  they  were  not  ber  ordinary  ones.  True 
she  was  tired,  but  she  was  the  slave,  of  the  world  ;  and 
Agellius  had  only  made  ber  more  sceptical  tban  before 
tliat  there  was  any  service  better.  So  at  least  she 
said  to  herself;  she  said  it  was  fantastic  to  go  else- 
where for  good,  and  tbat  if  life  was  short,  then,  as  lier 
brother  said,  it  was  necessary  to  make  tbe  most  of  it. 

And  meanwhile,  what  of  Agellius  bimself?  why,  it 
will  be  some  little  time  before  Agellius  will  be  in  a  con- 
dition to  moralize  upon  any  thing.  His  faithful  slave 
half  carried,  half  drew  him  into  the  cottage,  and 
stretched  bim  upon  bis  bed.  Then,  baving  sufficient 
skill  for  tbe  ordinary  illnesses  of  the  country,  though 
this  was  more  tban  an  ordinary  fever,  be  drew  blood 
from  him,  gave  bim  a  draught  of  herbs,  and  left  him 
to  the  slow  but  safe  processes  of  nature  to  restore 
bim.     It  could  not  be  affirmed  tbat  be  was  not  in  con- 


118  CALLISTA  ; 

siderable  clanger  of  life,  yet  youtli  carries  hope  with  it, 
and  his  attendant  had  little  to  fear  for  his  recovery. 
For  some  days  certainly  Agellius  had  no  apprehension 
of  any  thing,  except  of  restlessness  and  distress,  of 
sleepless  nights  or  dreary  miserable  dreams.  At  length 
one  morning,  as  he  was  lying  on  his  back,  with  his 
eyes  shut,  it  came  into  his  mind  to  ask  himself  wlie- 
ther  Sunday  would  ever  come.  He  had  been  accus- 
tomed upon  the  first  day  of  the  week  to  say  some 
particular  prayers  and  psalms,  and  unite  himself  in 
spirit  with  his  brethren  beyond  seas.  And  then  he 
tried  to  remember  the  last  Sunday  ;  and  the  more  he 
thought,  the  less  he  could  remember  it,  till  he  began 
to  think  that  mouths  had  gone  without  a  Sunday. 
This  he  was  certain  of,  that  he  had  lost  reckoning,  for 
he  had  made  no  notches  for  the  days  for  a  long  while 
past,  and  unless  his  slave  Aspar  knew,  there  was  no 
one  to  tell  him.  Here  he  got  so  puzzled,  that  it  was 
like  one  of  the  bad  dreams  which  had  worried  him. 
He  felt  it  affect  his  head,  and  he  was  obliged  to  give 
up  the  inquiry. 

From  this  time  his  sleep  was  better  and  more  re- 
freshing for  several  days  ;  he  was  more  collected  wlien 
he  was  awake,  and  was  able  to  ask  himself  why  he  lay 
there,  and  what  had  happened  to  him.  Then  gradually 
his  memory  began  to  return,  like  the  dawning  of  the 
day;  the  cause  and  the  circumstances  of  his  recent 
visit  to  the  city,  point  after  point,  came  up,  and  he 
felt  first  wonder,  and  then  certainty.  He  recollected 
the  Forum,  and  then  the  edict ;  a  solemn,  overpower- 
ing emotion  here  seized  him,  and  for  a  while  he  dared 
not  think  more.  "When  he  recovered,  and  tried  to 
pursue  the  events  of  the  day,  he  found  himself  un- 
equal to  the  task ;  all  was  dark,  except  that  he  had 
some  vague  rem-embrance  of  thirsting,  and  some  one 
giving  him  to  drink,  and  then  his  saying  with  the 
Psalmist,  "  Transivimus  per  ignem  et  aquam." 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him.  He 
was  at  home.     There  was  some  one  at  the  bed-head 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CEINTURT.  119 

whom  he  could  not  see  hanging  over  him,  and  he  was 
too  weak  to  raise  himself  and  so  command  a  view  of 
him.  He  waited  patient! v,  being  too  feeble  to  have 
any  great  anxiety  on  the  subject.  Presently  a  voice 
addressed  him :  "  You  are  recovering,  my  son,"  it 
said. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  said  Agellius  abruptly.  The 
person  spoken  to  applied  his  mouth  to  Agellius's  ear, 
and  uttered  lowly  several  sacred  names, 

Agellius  would  have  started  up  had  he  been  strong 
enough ;  he  could  but  sinlc  down  upon  his  rushes  in 
agitation. 

"  Be  content  to  know  no  more  at  present,"  said  the 
stranger,  "but  praise  God,  as  I  do.  You  know 
enough  for  your  present  strength.  It  is  your  act  of 
obedience  for  the  day." 

It  was  a  deep,  clear,, peaceful,  authoritative  voice. 
In  his  present  state,  as  we  have  said,  it  cost  Agellius 
no  great  effort  to  mortify  curiosity ;  and  the  accents 
of  that  voice  soothed  him,  and  the  mystery  employed 
his  mind,  and  had  something  pleasing  and  attractive 
in  it.  Moreover,  about  the  main  point  there  was  no 
mystery,  and  could  be  no  mistake,  that  he  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  Christian  ecclesiastic. 

The  stranger  occupied  himself  for  a  time  with  a 
book  of  prayers  which  he  carried  about  him,  and 
then  again  with  the  duties  of  a  sick  bed.  He  sprinkled 
vinegar  over  Agellius's  face  and  about  the  room,  and 
supplied  him  with  the  refreshment  of  cooling  fruit. 
He  kept  the  flies  from  tormenting  him,  and  did  his 
best  so  to  arrange  his  posture  that  he  might  suffer 
least  from  his  long  lying.  In  the  morning  and  even- 
ing he  let  in  the  air,  and  excluded  the  sultry  noon. 
In  these  various  occupations  he  was  from  time  to  time 
removed  to  a  distance  from  the  patient,  who  thus  had 
an  opportunity  of  observing  him.  The  stranger  was 
of  middle  height,  upright,  and  well-proportioned;  he 
was  dressed  in  a  peasant's  or  slaA^e's  dark  tunic.  His 
face  was  rather  round  than  long ;  his  hair  black,  yet 


120  ■      CALLTSTA  ; 

witli  tbe  promise  of  greyness,  with  what  might  be 
baldness  in  the  crown,  or  a  priest's  tonsure.  His 
short  beard  curled  round  his  chin  ;  his  complexion  was 
very  clear.  But  the  most  striking  point  about  him 
was  his  eyes,  they  were  of  a  light  or  greyish  blue, 
transparent,  and  shining  like  precious  stones. 

Prom  the  day  that  they  first  interchanged  words, 
the  priest  said  some  short  prayers  from  time  to  time 
with  Agellius, — the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  portions  of  the 
Psalms.  Afterwards,  when  he  was  well  enough  to 
converse,  Agellius  was  struck  with  the  inexpressible 
peculiarity  of  his  manner.  It  was  self-collected, 
serene,  gentle,  tender,  unobtrusive,  unstudied.  It 
enabled  him  to  say  things  severe  and  even  stern,  with- 
out startling,  offending,  or  repelling  the  hearer.  He 
spoke  very  little  about  himself,  though  from  time  to 
time  points  of  detail  were  elicited  of  his  history  in  the 
course  of  conversation.  He  said  that  his  name  was 
Caecilius.  Aspar,  when  he  entered  the  room,  would 
kneel  down  and  offer  to  kiss  the  stranger's  sandal, 
though  the  latter  generally  managed  to  prevent  it. 

Caecilius  did  not  speak  much  about  himself;  but 
Agellius,  on  the  other  hand,  found  it  a  relief  to  tell  out 
his  own  history,  and  reflect  upon  and  describe  his  own 
feelings.  As  he  lay  on  his  bed,  he  half  soliloquized, 
half  addressed  himself  to  the  stranger.  Sometimes  he 
required  an  answer ;  sometimes  he  seemed  to  require 
none.  Once  he  asked  suddenly,  after  a  long  silence, 
whether  a  man  could  be  baptized  twice  ;  and  when  the 
priest  answered  distinctly  in  the  negative,  Agellius 
replied  that  if  so,  he  thought  it  would  be  best  not  to 
be  baptized  till  the  hour  of  death.  It  was  a  question, 
he  said,  which  had  perplexed  him  a  good  deal,  but  he 
never  had  had  any  one  to  converse  with  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

Caecilius  answered,  "But  how  could  you  promise 
yourself  that  you  would  be  able  to  obtain  the  sacra- 
ment at  the  last  moment  ?  The  water  and  the  ad- 
ministrator might  come  just  too  late ;  and  then  where 


A.    SKETCn    OF    THE    TIIIllI)    CENTURT.  121 

would  you  be,  my  son  ?  And  then  again,  liow  do  you 
know  you  would  wish  it  ?  Is  your  will  simply  in 
your  own  power  ?  '  Carpe  diem  ' ;'  take  God's  gift  while 
you  can." 

"  The  benefit  is  so  immense,"  answered  Agellius, 
"that  one  would  wish,  if  one  could,  to  enter  into  the 
unseen  world  without  losing  its  fulness.  This  can- 
not be,  if  a  long  time  elapses  between  baptism  and 
death." 

"You  are,  then,  of  the  number  of  those,"  said 
Cseeilius,  "  who  would  cheat  their  Maker  of  His  claim 
on  their  life,  if  they  could  (as  it  is  said)  in  their  last 
moment  cheat  the  devil." 

Agellius  continuing  silent,  Cajcilius  added,  "You 
want  to  enjoy  this  world,  and  to  inherit  the  next ;  is 
it  so?" 

"  I  am  puzzled,  my  head  is  weak,  father ;  I  do  not 
see  my  way  to  speak."  Presently  he  said,  "Sin  after 
baptism  is  so  awful  a  matter ;  there  is  no  second  laver 
for  sin ;  and  then  again,  to  sin  against  baptism  is  so 
great  a  sin." 

The  priest  said,  "  In  baptism  Grod  becomes  your 
Eather  ;  your  own  Grod  ;  your  worship  ;  your  love  ; — 
can  you  give  up  all  this  through  your  whole  life? 
Would  you  live  '  without  God  in  this  world  ?'  " 

Tears  came  into  Agellius's  eyes,  and  his  throat  be- 
came oppressed.  At  last  he  said  distinctly  and  ten- 
derly, "No." 

After  a  while  the  priest  said,  "  I  suppose  what  you 
fear  is  the  fire  of  judgment,  and  the  prison ;  not  lest 
you  should  fall  away  and  be  lost." 

"I  know,  my  dear  father,"  answered  the  sick  youth, 
"  that  I  have  no  right  to  reckon  on  any  thing,  or  pro- 
mise myself  any  thing;  yet  somehow  I  have  never 
feared  hell, — though  I  ought,  I  know  I  ought ;  but 
I  4iave  not.  I  deserve  the  worst,  but  somehow  1 
have  thought  that  God  would  lead  me  on.  He  ever 
has  done  so." 

* "  Seize  the  opportunity." 


122  CALLISTA ; 

"True,"  said  C.Tcilius ;  "then  it  is  that  you  fear 
tlie  fire  of  judgment.  You'd  put  off  baptism  for  fear 
of  that  fire.'" 

"I  did  not  say,  I  ivoidd,''  answered  Agelllus ;  "I 
wanted  you  to  explain  the  thing  to  me." 

"Which  would  you  rather,  Agellius,  be  without 
Grod  here,  or  suffer  the  fire  there  ?" 

Agellius  smiled ;  he  said  faintly,  "  I  take  Him  for 
my  portion  here  and  there :  He  will  be  in  the  fire  with 
me." 

Agellius  lay  quiet  for  some  hours,  and  seemed 
asleep.  Suddenly  he  began  again,  "I  was  baptized 
when  I  was  only  six  years  old.  I'm  glad  you  do  not 
think  it  was  wilful  in  me,  and  wrong.  I  cannot  tell 
what  took  me,"  he  presently  continued.  "  It  was  a 
fervour ;  I  have  had  nothing  of  the  kind  since.  What 
does  our  Lord  say  ?  1  can't  remember :  '  Novissima 
pejora  prioribus  ^.'  " 

He  continued  the  train  of  thought  another  day,  or 
rather  the  course  of  argument ;  for  on  the  thought 
itself  his  mind  seemed  ever  to  be  working.  "  My 
spring  is  gone,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  no  summer. 
Nay,  I  have  had  no  spring ;  it  was  a  day,  not  a  season. 
It  came,  and  it  went ;  where  am  I  now  ?  Can  spring 
ever  return  ?      I  wish  to  begin  again  in  right  earnest." 

"Thank  God,  my  son,  for  this  great  mercy,"  said 
Csecilius,  "that,  though  you  have  relaxed,  you  have 
never  severed  yourself  from  the  peace  of  the  Church. 
You  have  not  denied  your  God." 

Agellius  sighed  bitterly.  "  O  my  father,"  he  said, 
"'Erravi,  sicut  ovis,  quae  periit^.' "  I  have  been 
very  near  denying  Him,  at  least  by  outward  act.  You 
do  not  know  me ;  you  cannot  know  what  has  come  on 
me  lately.  And  I  dare  not  look  back  on  it,  my  heart 
is  so  weak.  My  father,  how  am  I  to  repent  of  what 
is  past,  when  I  dare  not  think  of  it  ?  To  think  o^'  it 
is  to  renew  the  sin." 

2  "  The  last  state  is  worse  than  the  first." 

3  *«  I  have  wandered  like  a  sheep  that  has  been  lost." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  TniE-D  CENTUEY.     123 

"  '  Puer  mens,  noli  timere.'  "  ans^Yered  the  priest; 
"  'si  transieris  per  ignem,  odor  ejus  «ou  erit  in  te  ■*.' 
In  penance,  the  grace  of  Grod  carries  you  without 
harm  through  thoughts  and  words  which  would  harm 
you  apart  from  it." 

"Ah,  penance!"  said  Agcllius ;  "I  recollect  the 
catechism.  AVhat  is  it,  father?  a  new  grace,  I  know  ; 
a  plank  after  baptism.     May  I  have  it  ?" 

"  You  are  not  strong  enough  yet  to  think  of  these 
things,  Agellius,"  answered  CTecilius.  "  Please  God, 
you  shall  get  well.  Then  you  shall  review  all  your 
life,  and  bring  it  out  in  order  before  Him  ;  and  He, 
through  me,  will  wipe  away  all  that  has  been  amiss. 
Praise  Him  who  has  spared  you  for  this." 

It  was  too  much  for  the  patient  in  his  weak  state ; 
he  could  but  shed  happy  tears. 

Another  day  he  had  sat  up  in  bed.  He  looked 
at  his  hands,  from  which  the  skin  was  peeling;  he 
felt  his  lips,  and  it  was  the  same  with  them ;  and  his 
hair  seemed  coming  off  also.  He  smiled  and  said, 
"  E-enovabitur,  ut  aquila,  juventus  mea^" 

Ca3cilius.  responded,  as  before,  with  sacred  words 
which  were  new  to  Agellius  :  "  '  Qui  sperant  in  Domino 
mutabunt  fortitudinem ;  assument  pennas,  sicut  aqui- 
ls6^.'     '  Sursum  corda!'  you  must  soar,  Agellius." 

"  ' Sursum  corda ! '  "  answered  he ;  "I  know  those 
words.  They  are  old  friends ;  where  have  I  heard 
them  ?  I  can't  recollect ;  but  they  are  in  my  earliest 
memories.  Ah  !  but  my  father,  my  heart  is  below,  not 
above.  I  want  to  tell  you  all.  I  want  to  tell  you 
about  one  who  has  enthralled  my  heart ;  who  has 
divided  it  with  my  True  Love.  But  I  daren't  speak  of 
her,  as  I  have  said ;  I  dare  not  speak,  lest  I  be  carried 
away.     O,  I  blush  to  say  it ;  she  is  a  heathen !     May 

*  "  My  child,  be  not  afraid  ;  if  tliou  passest  through  the  fire,  its 
smell  shall  not  adhere  to  thee." 

5  "  My  youth  shall  be  renewed  like  an  eagle." 

''  "  They  that  hope  in  the  Lord  shall  change  (moult)  their 
strength :  they  shall  take  wings  as  eagles." 


124  CALLISTA ; 

God  save  her  soul.  Will  He  come  to  me,  and  not  to 
her  ?     '  Investigabiles  viae  ejus  ^'  " 

He  remained  silent  for  some  time ;  then  he  said, 
"  Father,  I  mean  to  dedicate  myself  to  God,  simply, 
absolutely,  with  His  grace.  I  will  be  His,  and  He 
shall  be  mine.  JNTo  one  shall  come  between  us.  But 
O  this  weak  heart!" 

"  Keep  your  good  resolves  till  you  are  stronger," 
said  the  priest.  "  It  is  easy  to  make  them  on  a  sick 
bed.     You  must  first  'reckon  the  charges.'  " 

AgelHus  smiled.  "  I  know  the  passage,  father,"  he 
said,  and  he  repeated  the  sacred  words.  "_If  any  man 
come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father  and  mother,  and 
wife,  and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and 
his  own  life  also,  he  cannot  be  My  disciple." 

Another  time  Agelhus  said:  "The  Martyrs  ;  surely 
the  old  bishop  used  to  say  sometliing  about  the  Mar- 
tyrs. He  spoke  of  a  second  baptism,  and  called  it  a 
baptism  of  blood ;  and  said,  '  Might  his  soul  be  with 
the  Martyrs  ! '  Pather,  would  not  this  wash  out  every 
thing,  as  the  first  ?" 

It  was  now  Csecilius  who  smiled,  and  his  eyes  shorjo 
like  the  sapphires  of  the  Holy  City ;  and  he  seemed 
the  ideal  of  him  who,  when 

"  called  upon  to  fare 
Some  awful  moment  to  which  Heaven  has  joined 
Great  issues,  good  or  bad  for  humankind, 
Is  happy  as  a  lover,  and  attired 
With  sudden  brightness,  like  a  man  inspired." 

However,  he  soon  controlled  himself,  and  said,  "  Quo 
ego  vado,  non  potes  me  modo  sequi ;  sequeris  autem 
postea^" 

7  "  Unsearchable  are  his  ways." 

8  "  Whither  I  go,  thou  canst  not  follow  me  now  ;  but  thou  shalt 
follow  me  afterwards." 


A  SKETCK  or  THE  THIKD  CENTUEX.     125 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Thts  sort  of  intercourse,  growing  in  frequency  and 
fulness,  went  on  for  about  a  week^  till  Agellius  was 
able  to  walk  with  support,  and  to  leave  the  cottage. 
The  priest  and  his  own  slave  took  him  between  them, 
and  seated  him  one  evening  in  sight  of  the  glorious 
prospect,  traversed  by  the  long  shadow  of  the  far 
mountains,  behind  which  the  sun  was  making  its  way. 
The  air  was  filled  with  a  thousand  odours ;  tlie  bril- 
liant colouring  of  the  western  heavens  was  contrasted 
with  the  more  sober  but  varied  tints  of  the  rich  coun- 
try. The  wheat  and  barley  harvest  was  over ;  but  the 
beans  were  late,  and  still  stood  in  the  fields.  The 
olives  and  chestnut-trees  were  full  of  fruit ;  the  early 
fig  was  supplying  the  markets  with  food ;  and  the 
numerous  vineyards  were  patiently  awaiting  the  suns 
of  the  next  month  slowly  to  perfect  their  present  pro- 
mise. The  beautiful  scene  had  a  moral  dignity,  from 
its  associations  with  human  sustenance  and  well  being. 
The  inexpressible  calmness  of  evening  was  flung,  like  a 
robe,  over  it.  Its  sweetness  was  too  much  for  one 
who  had  been  confined  to  the  monotony  of  a  sick 
room,  and  was  still  an  invalid.  He  sat  silent,  and  in 
tears.  It  was  life  from  the  dead ;  and  he  felt  he  had 
risen  to  a  different  life.  And  thus  he  came  out  even- 
ing after  evening ;  convalescent,  gradually  and  surely 
advancing  to  perfect  restoration  of  his  health. 

One  evening  he   said,  after  feeding  his  eyes  and 


126  CALLISTA ; 

thoughts  for  some  time  with  the  prospect,  "  '  Mansneti 
hereditabimt  terram^'  They  alone  have  real  enjoy- 
ment of  this  earth  who  believe  in  its  Maker.  Every 
breath  of  air  seems  to  Avhisper  how  good  He  is  to 
me." 

Csecilius  answered,  "  These  sights  are  the  shadows 
of  that  fairer  paradise  which  is  our  home,  where  there 
is  no  beast  of  prey,  no  venomous  reptile,  no  sin.  My 
child,  should  I  not  feel  this  more  than  you  ?  Those 
who  are  shut  up  in  crowded  cities  see  but  the  work  of 
man,  which  is  evil.  It  is  the  compensation  of  my 
flight  from  Carthage,  that  I  am  brought  before  the 
face  of  Grod." 

"  The  heathen  worship  all  this,  as  if  God  Himself," 
said  Agellius ;  "  how  strange  it  seems  to  me  that  any 
one  can  forget  the  Creator  in  His  works!" 

Csecilius  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  sighed;  he 
then  said,  "You  have  ever  been  a  Christian,  Agel- 
lius." 

"And  you  have  not,  my  father?"  answered  he; 
"  well,  you  have  earned  that  grace  which  came  to  me 
freely." 

"Agellius,"  said  the  priest,  "it  comes  freely  to  all; 
and  is  only  merited,  when  it  has  already  prevailed. 
Yet  I  think  you  earned  it  too,  else  why  the  difference 
between  you  and  your  brother?" 

"What  do  you  know  of  us?"  asked  Agellius 
quickly. 

"Not  a  great  deal,"  answered  he,  "yet  something. 
Three  or  four  years  back  an  effort  was  made  to  revive 
the  Christian  spirit  in  these  parts,  and  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  Churches  of  the  proconsulate,  and  to  fill 
up  the  vacant  sees,  Nothing  has  come  of  it  as  yet; 
but  steps  were  taken  towards  it:  one  was  to  obtain 
a  return  of  the  Christians  who  remained  in  them. 
I  was  sent  here  for  that  purpose,  and  in  this  v/ay 
heard  of  you  and  your  brother.     When  my  life  was 

^  "  The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth." 


A   SKETCH    OF   THE   THIED    CEIfTUET.  127 

threatened  by  the  persecution,  and  I  had  to  flee,  I 
thought  of  your  cottage.  I  was  obliged  to  act  secretly, 
as  we  did  not  know  friends  from  foes." 

"  You  were  led  here  for  other  purposes  towards  me, 
my  father,"  said  Agellius ;  "yet  you  cannot  have  a 
safer  refuge.  There  is  nothing  to  disturb,  nothing  to 
cause  suspicion  here.  In  this  harvest  time  numbers 
of  strangers  pour  in  from  the  mountains,  of  various 
races ;  there  is  nothing  to  distinguish  you  from  one  of 
them,  and  my  brother  is  away,  convoying  some  grain 
to  Carthage.  Persecution  drove  you  hither,  but  you 
have  not  been  suffered  to  be  idle,  my  father;  you 
have  brought  home  a  wanderer."  He  said,  after  a 
pause,  "  I  am  well  enough  to  go  to  confession  to  you 
now.     May  it  be  this  evening  ?" 

"It  will  be  well,"  answered  Csecilius;  "how  long  I 
shall  still  be  here,  I  cannot  tell.  I  amx  expecting  my 
trusty  messenger  with  despatches.  It  is  now  three 
days  since  he  was  here.  However,  this  I  say  without 
misgiving,  we  do  not  part  for  long.  What  do  you 
here  longer  ?  you  must  come  to  me.  I  must  prepare 
you,  and  send  you  back  to  Sicca,  to  collect  and  restore 
this  scattered  flock." 

Agellius  turned,  and  leaned  against  the  priest's 
shoulder,  and  laughed.  "I  am  laughing,"  he  said, 
"  not  from  lightness  of  mind,  but  from  the  depth  of 
surprise  and  of  joy  that  you  should  so  think  of  me. 
It  was  a  dream  which  once  I  had ;  but  impossible ! 
you  do  not  think  that  I,  weak  I,  shall  ever  be  able  to 
do  more  than  save  my  own  soul?" 

"  Tou  will  save  your  own  soul  by  saving  the  souls 
of  others,"  said  Csecilius;  "my  child,  I  could  tell  you 
more  things,  if  I  thought  it  good  for  you." 

"  But,  my  father,  I  have  so  weak,  so  soft  a  heart," 
cried  Agellius  ;  "  what  am  I  to  do  with  myself?  I  am 
not  of  the  temper  of  which  heroes  are  made  ?" 

"'Yirtus    in    infirmitate    perficitur^,'  "    said   the 

2  "  Power  is  made  perfect  in  infirmity," 


128  CALLISTA ; 

priest.  "What!  are  you  to  do  «72;/ thing  of  yourself? 
or  are  you  to  be  simply  the  instrument  of  Another  ? 
"We  shall  have  the  same  termination,  you  and  myself, 
but  you  long  after  me." 

"Ah,  father,  because  you  ^ill  burn  out  so  much 
more  quickly  !"  said  Ageliius. 

"I  think,"  said  Csecilius,  "I  see  my  messenger; 
there  is  some  one  who  has  made  his  way  by  stealth 
into  the  garden,  or  at  least  not  by  the  beaten  way." 

There  was  a  visitor,  as  Ccecilius  had  said ;  however, 
it  was  not  his  messenger,  but  Juba,  who  approached, 
looking  with  great  curiosity  at  Csecilius,  and  absorbed 
in  the  sight.  Csccilius  in  turn  regarded  him  sted- 
fastly,  and  then  said  to  AgeUius,  "It  is  your  brother." 

"  What  brings  you  here,  Juba?"  said  the  latter. 

"I  have  been  away  on  a  distant  errand,"  said  Juba, 
"and  find  you  have  been  ill.  Is  this  your  nurse?" 
he  eyed  him  almost  sternly,  and  added,  "  'Tis  a  Chris- 
tian priest." 

"Has  Ageliius  no  acquaintance  but  Christians?" 
asked  Ca^cilius. 

"Acquaintance!  O  surely!"  answered  Juba; 
"agreeable,  innocent,  sweet  acquaintance  of  another 
sort;  myself  to  begin  with.  My  lad,"  he  continued, 
"  you  did  not  rise  to  their  price,  but  you  did  your 
best." 

"  Juba,"  said  his  brother,  "if  you  have  any  business 
here,  say  it,  and  have  done.  I  am  not  strong  enough 
to  hold  any  altercation  with  you." 

"  Business  !"  said  Juba,  "  I  can  find  quite  business 
enough  here,  if  I  choose.  This  is  a  priest  of  the 
Christians.     I  am  sure  of  it." 

Csecilius  looked  at  him  with  such  calmness  and 
benevolence,  that  at  length  Juba  turned  away  his  eyes 
with  something  of  irritation.  He  said,  "If  I  am  a 
priest,  I  am  here  to  claim  you  as  one  of  my  children." 

Juba  winced,  but  said  scornfully,  "  You  are  mis- 
taken there,  father ;  speak  to  those  who  own  you.  I 
am  a  free  man." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     129 

"  Mj  son,"  Csecilius  answered,  "  you  have  been  under 
instruction ;  it  is  your  duty  to  go  forward,  not  back." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  me?"  said  Juba;  "he 
has  been  telling." 

"  Your  face,  your  manner,  your  voice,  tells  a  tale.  I 
need  no  information  from  others.  I  have  heard  of 
you  years  ago  ;  now  I  see  you." 

"  What  do  you  see  in  me?"  said  Juba. 

"  I  see  pride  in  bodily  shape,  treading  down  faith 
and  conviction,"  said  Csecilius. 

Juba  neighed  rather  than  laughed,  so  fierce  and 
scornful  was  its  expression.  "  What  you  slaves  call 
pride,"  he  said,  "I  call  dignity." 

"  You  believe  in  a  God,  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth, 
as  certainly  as  I  do,"  said  the  priest,  "but  you  de- 
liberately set  yourself  against  Him." 

Juba  smiled.  "I  am  as  free,"  he  said,  "in  w?y place, 
as  He  in  His." 

"  You  mean,"  answered  Csecilius,  "  free  to  do  wrong, 
and  free  to  suffer  for  it." 

"  You  may  call  it  wrong,  and  call  it  suffering," 
replied  Juba ;  "  but  for  me,  I  do  not  call  wrong  what 
He  calls  wrong ;  and  if  He  puts  me  to  pain,  it  is  be- 
cause He  is  the  stronger." 

The  priest  stopped  awhile :  there  was  no  emotion 
on  either  side.  It  was  strange  to  see  them  so  pas- 
sionless, so  antagonistic,  like  St.  Michael  and  his  ad- 
versary. 

"There  is  that  wnthin  you,"  said  Ca^cilius,  "which 
speaks  as  I  speak.  That  inward  voice  takes  the  part 
of  the  Creator,  and  condemns  you." 

"  He  put  it  there,"  said  Juba,  "  and  1  will  take 
care  to  put  it  out." 

"  Then  He  will  have  justice  as  well  as  power  on  His 
side,"  said  the  priest. 

"  I  will  never  fawn  or  crouch,"  said  Juba  ;  "  I  will 
be  lord  and  master  in  my  own  soul.  Every  faculty 
shall  be  mine ;  there  shall  be  no  divided  allegiance." 

Csecilius  paused  again ;   he   said    at   length,   "  My 

K 


130  CALLISTA , 

son,  my  soul  tells  me,  or  rather  my  Maker  tells  me, 
and  your  Maker,  that  some  heavy  judgment  is  im- 
pending over  you.     Do  penance  ^hile  you  may." 

"Tell  your  forebodings  to  women  and  children," 
said  Juba  ;  "  I  am  prepared  for  any  thing,  I  will  not 
be  crushed." 

Agellius  was  not  strong  enough  to  bear  a  part  in 
such  a  scene.  "  Father,"  he  said,  "  it  is  his  way,  but 
don't  believe  him.  He  has  better  thoughts.  Away 
with  you,  Juba,  you  are  not  wanted  here." 

"Agellius,"  said  the  priest,  "  such  words  are  not 
strange  to  me.  I  am  not  young,  and  have  seen  much  of 
the  world  ;  and  my  very  ofBce  and  position  elicits  from 
others  blasphemies  from  time  to  time.  I  knew  a  man 
who  carried  out  his  bad  thoughts  and  words  into  act. 
Abjuring  his  Maker,  he  took  an  oath  of  slavery  to  the 
evil  one.  He  betrayed  his  brethren  to  death.  He 
lived  on  year  after  year,  and  became  old.  He  was 
smitten  with  illness ;  then  I  first  saw  him.  I  made 
him  contemplate  a  picture ;  it  was  the  picture  of  the 
Good  Shepherd.  I  dwelt  on  the  vain  eftbrts  of  the 
poor  sheep  to  get  out  of  the  fold ;  its  irrational  aver- 
sion to  its  home,  and  its  desperate  resolution  to  force 
a  way  through  the  prickly  fence.  It  was  pierced  and 
torn  with  the  sharp  aloe  ;  at  last  it  lay  imprisoned  in 
its  stern  embrace,  motionless  and  bleeding.  Then  the 
Shepherd,  though  He  had  to  wound  His  own  hands  in 
the  work,  disengaged  it,  and  brought  it  back.  God 
has  His  own  times  ;  His  power  went  along  with  the 
picture,  and  the  man  was  moved.  I  said,  '  This  is  His 
return  for  your  enmity :  He  is  determined  to  have 
you,  cost  Him  what  it  will.'  I  need  not  go  through 
the  many  things  that  followed,  but  the  issue  may  be 
told  in  few  words.  He  came  back ;  he  lived  a  life  of 
penance  at  the  Church's  door ;  he  received  the  peace 
of  the  Church  in  immediate  prospect  of  the  persecu- 
tion, and  has  within  the  last  ten  days  died  a  martyr's 
death." 

Juba  had  listened  as  if  he  was  constrained  against 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      131 

his  will.  AVhen  the  priest  stopped  he  started,  and 
began  to  speak  impetuously,  and  unlike  his  ordinary 
tone.  Ho  placed  his  hands  violently  against  his  ears, 
i'  Stop  !  "  he  said,  "  no  more.  J  will  not  betray  them  ; 
no  :  I  need  not  betray  them  ;"  he  laughed  ;  "  the  black 
moor  does  the  work  himself.  Look,"  he  cried,  seizing 
the  priest's  arm,  and  pointing  to  a  part  of  the  forest, 
which  happened  to  be  to  windward.  "  You  are  in  their 
number,  priest,  who  can  foretel  the  destinies  of  others, 
and  are  blind  to  their  own.  Kead  there,  the  task  is 
not  hard,  your  coming  fortunes." 

His  finger  was  directed  to  a  spot  where,  amid  the 
thick  foliage,  the  gleam  of  a  pool  or  of  a  marsh  was 
visible.  The  various  waters  round  about  issuing 
from  the  gravel,  or  drained  from  the  nightly  damps, 
had  run  into  a  hollow,  filled  with  the  decaying  vegeta- 
tion of  former  years,  and  were  languidly  filtered  out 
into  a  brook,  more  healthy  than  the  vast  reservoir 
itself.  Its  banks  were  bordered  with  a  deep,  broad 
layer  of  mud,  a  transition  substance  between  the  rich 
vegetable  matter  wliich  it  once  had  been,  and  the 
multitudinous  world  of  insect  life  which  it  Avas  be- 
coming. A  cloud  or  mist  at  this  time  was  hanging 
over  it,  high  in  air.  A  harsh  and  shrill  sound,  a 
whizzing  or  a  chirping,  proceeded  from  that  cloud  to 
the  ear  of  the  attentive  listener.  What  these  indica- 
tions portended  was  plain.  "There,"  said  Juba,  "is 
what  will  tell  more  against  you  than  imperial  edict, 
informer,  or  proconsular  apparitor ;  and  no  work  of 
mine." 

He  turned  down  the  bank  and  disappeared.  Agel- 
lius  and  his  guest  looked  at  each  other  in  dismay. 
'It  is  the  locusts,"  they  whispered  to  each  other  as 
they  went  back  into  the  cottage. 


£  2 


132  CALLISTA : 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

TnE  plague  of  locusts,  one  of  the  most  awful  visita- 
tioDS  to  which  the  countries  included  in  the  Eoman 
empire  were  exposed,  extended  from  the  Atlantic  to 
Etliiopia,  from  Arabia  to  India,  and  from  the  Kile  and 
lied  Sea  to  Greece  and  the  north  of  Asia  Minor. 
Instances  are  recorded  in  history  of  clouds  of  the 
devastating  insect  crossing  the  Black  Sea  to  Poland, 
and  the  Mediterranean  to  Lombardy.  It  is  as  nu- 
merous in  its  species  as  it  is  wide  in  its  range  of  ter- 
ritory. Brood  follows  brood,  with  a  sort  of  family 
likeness,  yet  with  distinct  attributes,  as  we  read  in  the 
prophets  of  the  Old  Testament,  from  whom  Bochart 
tells  us  it  is  possible  to  enumerate  as  many  as  ten 
kinds.  It  wakens  into  existence  and  activity  as  early 
as  the  month  of  March  ;  but  instances  are  not  wanting, 
as  in  our  present  history,  of  its  appearance  as  late  as 
June.  Even  one  flight  comprises  myriads  upon  myriads 
passing  imagination,  to  which  the  drops  of  rain  or  the 
sands  of  the  sea  are  the  only  fit  comparison ;  and 
hence  it  is  almost  a  proverbial  mode  of  expression  in 
the  East  (as  may  be  illustrated  by  the  sacred  pages 
to  which  we  just  now  referred),  by  way  of  describing  a 
vast  invadiug  army,  to  liken  it  to  the  locusts.  So 
dense  are  they,  when  upon  the  wing,  that  it  is  no  ex- 
aggeration to  say  tliat  they  hide  the  sun,  from  which 
circumstance  indeed  their  name  in  Arabic  is  derived. 
And  so  ubiquitous  are  they  when  they  liave  alighted 


A.   SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.      133 

on  the  earth,  that  they  simply  cover  or  clothe  its  sur- 
face. 

This  last  characteristic  is  stated  in  the  sacred  ac- 
count of  the  plagues  of  Egypt,  where  their  faculty  of 
devastation  is  also  mentioned.  The  corrupting  fly 
and  the  bruising  and  prostrating  hail  preceded  them 
in  the  series  of  visitations,  but  tJiei/  came  to  do  the 
work  of  ruin  more  thoroughly.  For  not  only  the 
crops  and  fruits,  but  the  foliage  of  the  forest  itself, 
nay,  tlie  small  twigs  and  the  bark  of  the  trees  are  the 
victims  of  their  curious  and  energetic  rapacity.  Tliey 
have  been  known  even  to  gnaw  the  door-posts  of  the 
bouses.  Nor  do  they  execute  their  task  in  so  slovenly 
a  way,  that,  as  they  have  succeeded  other  plagues,  so 
they  may  have  successors  themselves.  They  take  pains 
to  spoil  what  they  leave.  Like  the  Harpies,  they 
smear  every  thing  that  they  touch  with  a  miserable 
slime,  which  has  the  effect  of  a  virus  in  corroding,  or, 
as  some  say,  in  scorching  and  burning.  And  then, 
perhaps,  as  if  all  this  were  little,  when  they  can  do 
nothing  else,  they  die ;  as  if  out  of  sheer  malevolence 
to  man,  for  the  poisonous  elements  of  their  nature  are 
then  let  loose  and  dispersed  abroad,  and  create  a  pesti- 
lence •,  and  they  manage  to  destroy  many  more  by 
their  death  than  in  their  life. 

Such  are  the  locusts, — whose  existence  the  ancient 
heretics  brought  forward  as  their  palmary  proof  that 
there  was  an  evil  creator,  and  of  whom  an  Arabian 
writer  shows  his  national  horror,  when  he  says  that 
they  have  the  head  of  a  horse,  the  eyes  of  an  elephant, 
tlie  neck  of  a  bull,  the  horns  of  a  stag,  the  breast  of  a 
lion,  the  belly  of  a  scorpion,  the  wings  of  an  eagle,  the 
legs  of  a  camel,  the  feet  of  an  ostrich,  and  the  tail  of 
a  serpent. 

And  now  they  are  rushing  upon  a  considerable  tract 
of  that  beautiful  re-^ion  of  which  we  liavo  spoken  with 
such  admiration.  The  swarm  to  which  Juba  pointed 
grew  and  grew  till  it  became  a  compact  body,  as  much 
as  a  furlong  square ;  yet  it  was  but  the  vanguard  of 


134  CALLISTA  ; 

a  series  of  similar  hosts,  formed  one  after  another  out 
of  the  hot  mould  or  sand,  rising  into  the  air  like 
clouds,  enlarging  into  a  dusky  canopy,  and  then  dis- 
charged against  the  fruitful  plain.  At  length  the 
huge  innumerous  mass  was  put  into  motion,  and 
began  its  career,  darkening  the  face  of  day.  As  be- 
caDie  an  instrument  of  divine  power,  it  seemed  to 
have  no  volition  of  its  own ;  it  was  set  off,  it  drifted, 
with  the  wind,  and  thus  made  northwards,  straight  for 
Sicca.  Thus  they  advanced,  host  after  host,  for  a 
time  wafted  on  the  air,  and  gradually  declining  to  the 
earth,  while  fresh  broods  Avere  carried  over  the  first, 
and  neared  the  earth,  after  a  longer  flight,  in  tlieir 
turn.  For  twelve  miles  did  they  extend  from  front 
to  rear,  and  their  whizzing  and  hissing  could  be  heard 
for  six  miles  on  every  side  of  them.  The  bright  sun, 
though  hidden  by  them,  illumined  their  bodies,  and 
was  reflected  from  their  quivering  wings  ;  and  as  they 
heavily  fell  earthward,  they  seemed  like  the  innumera- 
ble flakes  of  a  yellow-coloured  snow.  And  like  snow 
did  they  descend,  a  living  carpet,  or  rather  pall, 
upon  fields,  crops,  gardens,  copses,  groves,  orchards, 
vineyards,  olive  woods,  orangeries,  palm  plantations, 
and  the  deep  forests,  sparing  nothing  within  their 
reach,  and  where  there  was  nothing  to  devour,  lying 
helpless  in  drifts,  or  crawling  forward  obstinately,  as 
they  best  might,  with  the  hope  of  prey.  They  could 
spare  their  hundred  thousand  soldiers  twice  or  thrice 
over,  and  not  miss  them ;  their  masses  filled  the 
bottoms  of  the  ravines  and  hollow  ways,  impeding  the 
traveller  as  he  rode  forward  on  his  journey,  and  tram- 
pled by  thousands  under  his  horse-hoofs.  In  vain  was 
all  tliis  overthrow  and  waste  by  the  road-side  ;  in  vain 
their  loss  in  river,  pool,  and  watercourse.  The  poor 
peasants  hastily  dug  pits  and  trenches  as  their  enemy 
came  on ;  in  vain  they  filled  them  from  the  wells  or 
with  lighted  stubble.  Heavily  and  thickly  did  the 
locusts  fl\ll ;  they  were  lavish  of  their  lives ;  they 
choked  the  flame  and  the  water,  which  destroyed  them 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CEKTURT.     135 

the  while,  and  the  vast  living  hostile  armament  still 
moved  on. 

Tliey  moved  right  on  like  soldiers  in  their  ranks, 
stopping  at  nothing,  and  straggling  for  nothing ;  they 
carried  a  broad  furrow  or  wheal  all  across  the  country, 
black  and  loathsome,  while  it  was  as  green  and  smiling 
on  each  side  of  them  and  in  front,  as  it  had  been  be- 
fore they  came.  Before  them,  in  the  language  of 
prophets,  was  a  paradise,  and  behind  them  a  desert. 
They  are  daunted  by  nothing ;  they  surmount  walls 
and  hedges,  and  enter  enclosed  gardens  or  inhabited 
houses.  A  rare  and  experimental  vineyard  has  been 
planted  in  a  sheltered  grove.  The  high  winds  of 
Africa  will  not  commonly  allow  the  light  trellice  or 
the  slim  pole ;  but  here  the  lofty  poplar  of  Campania 
has  been  possible,  on  which  the  vine  plant  mounts  so 
many  yards  into  the  air,  that  the  poor  grape-gatherers 
bargain  for  a  funeral  pile  and  a  tomb  as  one  of  the 
conditions  of  their  engagement.  The  locusts  have 
done  what  the  winds  and  lightning  could  not  do,  and 
the  whole  promise  of  the  vintage,  leaves  and  all,  is 
gone,  and  the  slender  stems  are  left  bare.  There  is 
another  yard,  less  uncommon,  but  still  tended  with 
more  than  common  care  ;  each  plant  is  kept  within  due 
bounds  by  a  circular  trench  round  it,  and  by  upright 
canes  on  which  it  is  to  trail ;  in  an  hour  the  solicitude 
and  long  toil  of  the  vine-dresser  are  lost,  and  his  pride 
humbled.  There  is  a  smiling  farm  ;  another  sort  of 
vine,  of  remarkable  character,  is  found  against  the 
farmhouse.  This  vine  springs  from  one  root,  and 
has  clothed  and  matted  with  its  many  branches  the 
four  walls.  The  whole  of  it  is  covered  thick  with 
long  clusters,  which  another  month  will  ripen.  On 
every  grape  and  leaf  there  is  a  locust.  Into  the  dry 
caves  and  pits,  carefully  strewed  with  straw,  the 
harvest-men  have  (safely,  as  they  thought  just  now) 
been  lodging  the  far-famed  African  wheat.  One  grain 
or  root  shoots  up  into  ten,  twenty,  fifty,  eighty,  nay, 
three  or  four  hundred  stalks ;  sometimes  the  stalks 


136  CALLISTA ; 

have  two  ears  apiece,  and  these  shoot  off  into  a  number 
of  lesser  ones.  These  stores  are  intended  for  the 
Eoman  populace,  but  the  locusts  have  been  beforehand 
witli  them.  The  small  patches  of  ground  belouging 
to  the  poor  peasants  up  and  down  the  country,  for 
raising  the  turnips,  garlick,  barley,  water-melons,  on 
which  they  live,  are  the  prey  of  these  glutton  invaders 
as  much  as  the  choicest  vines  and  olives.  Nor  have  they 
any  reverence  for  the  villa  of  the  civic  decurion  or  the 
Eoman  official.  The  neatly  arranged  kitchen  garden, 
with  its  cherries,  plums,  peaches,  and  apricots,  is  a 
waste  ;  as  the  slaves  sit  round,  in  the  kitchen  in  the  first 
court,  at  their  coarse  evening  meal,  the  room  is  filled 
with  the  invading  force,  and  news  comes  to  them  that 
the  enemy  has  fallen  upon  the  apples  and  pears  in  the 
basement,  and  is  at  the  same  time  plundering  and 
sacking  the  preserves  of  quince  and  pomegranate,  and 
revelling  in  the  jars  of  precious  oil  of  Cyprus  and 
Mendes  in  the  store-rooms. 

They  come  up  to  the  walls  of  Sicca,  and  are  flung 
against  them  into  the  ditch.  Not  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion or  delay ;  they  recover  their  footing,  they  climb 
up  the  wood  or  stucco,  they  surmount  the  parapet,  or 
they  have  entered  in  at  the  windows,  filling  the  apart- 
ments, and  the  most  private  and  luxurious  chambers, 
not  one  or  two,  like  straj^^iers  at  forao-e  or  rioters 
after  a  victory,  but  in  order  of  battle,  and  with  the 
array  of  an  army.  Choice  plants  or  flowers  about  the 
im2)luvia  and  ccysti,  for  ornament  or  refreshment,  myr- 
tles, oranges,  pomegranates,  the  rose  and  the  carna- 
tion, have  disappeared.  They  dim  the  bright  marbles 
of  the  walls  and  the  gilding  of  the  ceilings.  They 
enter  the  triclinium  in  the  midst  of  the  banquet ;  they 
crawl  over  the  viands  and  spoil  what  they  do  not 
devour.  Unrelaxed  by  success  and  by  enjoyment,  on- 
ward they  go;  a  secret  mysterious  instinct  keeps  them 
together,  as  if  they  had  a  king  over  them.  They  move 
along  the  floor  in  so  strange  an  order  that  they  seem 
to  be  a  tessellated  pavement  themselves,  and  to  be  the 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIED    CENTURY.  137 

artificial  embellishment  of  the  place  ;  so  true  are  tlieir 
lines,  and  so  perfect  is  the  pattern  they  describe.  On- 
ward they  go,  to  the  market,  to  the  temple  sacrifices, 
to  the  bakers'  stores,  to  the  cookshops,  to  the  confec- 
tioners, to  the  druggists ;  nothing  comes  amiss  to 
them ;  wherever  man  has  aught  to  eat  or  drink,  there 
are  they,  reckless  of  death,  strong  of  appetite,  certain 
of  conquest. 

They  have  passed  on ;  the  men  of  Sicca  sadly  con- 
gratulate themselves,  and  begin  to  look  about  them,  and 
to  sum  up  their  losses.  Being  the  proprietors  of  the 
neighbouring  districts,  and  the  purchasers  of  its  pro- 
duce^ they  lament  over  the  devastation,  not  because 
the  fair  country  is  disfigured,  but  because  income  is 
becoming  scanty,  and  prices  are  becoming  high.  How 
is  a  population  of  many  thousands  to  be  fed  ?  where 
is  the  grain,  where  the  melons,  the  figs,  the  dates,  the 
gourds,  the  beans,  the  grapes,  to  sustain  and  solace  the 
multitudes  in  their  lanes,  caverns,  and  garrets  ?  This 
is  another  weighty  consideration  for  the  class  well-to- 
do  in  the  world.  The  taxes  too,  and  contributions, 
the  capitation  tax,  the  percentage  upon  corn,  the 
various  articles  of  revenues  due  to  Eome,  how  are  they 
to  be  paid  ?  How  are  cattle  to  be  provided  for  the 
sacrifices  and  the  tables  of  the  wealthy  ?  One-half,  at 
least,  of  the  supply  of  Sicca  is  cut  ofi:'.  No  longer 
slaves  are  seen  coming  into  the  city  from  the  country 
in  troops  with  their  baskets  on  their  shoulders,  or 
beating  forward  the  horse,  or  mule,  or  ox,  overladen 
with  its  burden,  or  driving  in  the  dangerous  cow  or 
the  unresisting  sheep.  The  animation  of  the  place  is 
gone  ;  a  gloom  hangs  over  the  Forum  ;  and  if  its  fre- 
quenters are  still  merry,  there  is  something  of  sullen- 
ness  and  recklessness  in  their  mirth.  The  gods  have 
given  the  city  up  ;  something  or  other  has  angered 
them.  Locusts,  indeed,  are  no  uncommon  visitation, 
but  at  an  earlier  season.  Perhaps  some  temple  has 
been  polluted,  or  some  unholy  rite  practised,  or  some 
secret  conspiracy  has  spread. 


138  CALLISTA  , 

Another  and  a  still  worse  calamity.  The  invaders, 
as  ^Ye  have  already  hinted,  could  be  more  terrible  still 
in  their  overthrow  than  in  their  ravages.  The  inhaoit- 
ants  of  the  country  had  attempted,  where  they  could, 
to  destroy  th^n  by  fire  and  water.  It  would  seem  as 
if  the  malignant  animals  had  resolved  that  the  suf- 
ferers should  have  the  benefit  of  this  policy  to  the 
full ;  for  they  had  not  got  more  than  twenty  miles 
beyond  Sicca  when  they  suddenly  sickened  and  died. 
When  they  thus  had  done  all  the  mischief  they  could 
by  their  living,  when  they  thus  had  made  their  foul 
maws  the  grave  of  every  living  thing,  next  they  died 
themselves,  and  made  the  desolated  land  their  own 
grave.  They  took  from  it  its  hundred  forms  and 
varieties  of  beautiful  life,  and  left  it  their  own  fetid 
and  poisonous  carcases  in  payment.  It  was  a  sudden 
catastrophe;  they  seem.ed  making  for  the  Mediter- 
ranean, as  if,  like  other  great  conquerors,  they  had 
other  M'orlds  to  subdue  beyond  it ;  but,  whether  they 
were  overgorged  or  struck  by  some  atmospheric  change, 
or  that  their  time  was  come  and  they  paid  the  debt  of 
nature,  so  it  was  that  suddenly  they  fell,  and  their 
glory  came  to  nought,  and  all  was  vanity  to  them  as 
to  others,  and  "  their  stench  rose  up,  and  their  corrup- 
tion rose  up,  because  they  had  done  proudly." 

The  hideous  swarms  lay  dead  in  the  moist  steaming 
underwoods,  in  the  green  swamps,  in  the  sheltered 
valleys,  in  the  ditches  and  farrows  of  the  fields,  amid 
the  monuments  of  their  own  prowess,  the  ruined  crops 
and  the  dishonoured  vineyards,  A  poisonous  element, 
issuing  from  their  remains,  mingled  with  the  atmo- 
sphere, and  corrupted  it.  The  dismayed  peasant  found 
that  a  plague  had  begun  ;  a  new  visitation,  not  con- 
fined to  the  territory  which  the  enemy  had  made  its 
own,  but  extending  fiir  and  wide,  as  the  atmosphere 
extends,  in  all  directions.  Their  daily  toil,  no  longer 
claimed  by  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  which  have  ceased 
to  exist,  is  now  devoted  to  the  object  of  ridding  them- 
selves of  the  deadly  legacy  which  they  have  received 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIKD  CENTURY.      139 

in  their  stead.  In  vain  ;  it  is  their  last  toil ;  the^  are 
digging  pits,  they  are  raising  piles,  for  their  own 
corpses,  as  well  as  for  the  bodies  of  their  enemies.  In- 
vader and  victim  lie  in  the  same  grave,  burn  in  the 
same  heap ;  they  sicken  while  they  w^ork,  and  the 
pestilence  spreads.  A  new  invasion  is  menacing  Sicca, 
in  the  shape  of  companies  of  peasants  and  slaves,  with 
their  employers  and  overseers,  nay,  the  farmers  them- 
selves and  proprietors,  the  panic  having  broken  the 
bonds  of  discipline,  rushing  thither  from  famine  and 
infection  as  to  a  place  of  safety.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  city  are  as  frightened  as  they,  and  more  energetic. 
Tiiey  determine  to  keep  them  at  a  distance ;  the 
gates  are  closed ;  a  strict  cordon  is  drawn ;  however, 
by  the  continued  pressure,  numbers  contrive  to  make 
an  entrance,  as  water  into  a  vessel,  or  light  through 
the  closed  shutters,  and  anyhow  the  air  cannot  be 
put  in  quarantine  ;  so  the  pestilence  has  the  better  of 
it,  and  at  last  appears  in  the  alleys  and  in  the  cellars 
of  Sicca. 


140  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  0  WEETCHED  minds  of  men !  O  blind  hearts !"  truly 
cries  out  a  great  heathen  poet,  but  on  grounds  far 
other  than  the  true  ones.  The  true  ground  of  such  a 
lamentation  is,  that  they  do  not  interpret  the  signs  of 
the  times  and  of  the  world  as  He  intends  who  has 
placed  these  signs  in  the  heavens ;  that  when  Mane, 
Thecel,  Phares  is  written  upon  the  ethereal  wall,  they 
have  no  inward  faculty  to  read  them  withal ;  and  that 
when  they  go  elsewhere  for  one  learned  in  tongues, 
instead  of  taking  Daniel,  who  is  used  to  converse  with 
angels,  they  rely  on  Magi  or  Chaldeans,  who  know 
only  the  languages  of  earth.  So  it  was  with  the  miser- 
able population  of  Sicca  now;  half  famished,  seized 
"with  a  pestilence  which  would  rage  before  it  assuaged, 
perplexed  and  oppressed  by  the  recoil  upon  them  of 
the  population  whom  they  had  from  time  to  time  sent 
out  into  the  surrounding  territory,  or  from  whom  they 
had  supplied  their  markets,  they  never  fancied  that 
the  real  cause  of  the  visitation  which  we  have  been 
describing  was  their  own  iniquity  in  their  Maker,s 
sight,  that  His  arm  inflicted  it,  and  that  its  natural 
and  direct  interpretation  was,  "  Do  penance,  and  be 
converted."  On  the  contrary,  they  looked  only  at 
their  own  vain  idols,  and  at  the  vain  rites  which  these 
idols  demanded,  and  they  thought  there  was  no  surer 
escape  from  their  misery  than  by  upholding  a  lie, 
and  putting  down  all  who  revolted  from  it ;  and  thus 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUKT.     141 

tlie  vislfcatiou  which  was  sent  to  do  them  good  tiirned 
through  their  wilful  blindness  to  their  greater  condem- 
nation. 

The  Forum,  which  at  all  times  was  the  resort  of 
idleness  and  dissipation,  now  became  more  and  more 
the  haunt  of  famine  and  sickness,  of  robust  frames 
without  work,  of  slavish  natures  virtually  and  for  the 
time  emancipated  and  uncontrolled,  of  youth  and  pas- 
sion houseless  and  shelterless.  In  groups  and  com- 
panies, in  and  out  of  the  porticoes,  on  the  steps  of  the 
temples,  and  about  the  booths  and  stalls  of  the  mar- 
ket, a  multitude  grows  day  by  day,  from  the  town  and 
from  the  country,  and  of  all  the  various  races  which 
town  and  country  contain.  The  civil  magistracy  and 
the  civil  force,  to  w^hich  the  peace  of  the  city  was 
committed,  were  not  equal  to  such  an  emergency  as 
the  present ;  and  the  milites  stotionarii,  a  sort  of  gar- 
rison who  represented  the  Eoman  power,  though  they 
were  ready  to  act  against  either  magistrates  or  mob 
impartially,  had  no  tenderness  for  either,  when  in  colli- 
sion with  each  other.  Indeed  the  bonds  of  society  were 
broken,  and  every  political  element  was  at  war  with 
every  other,  in  a  case  of  such  great  common  calamity, 
when  every  one  was  angry  with  every  one  else,  for 
want  of  some  clearly  defined  object  against  which  the 
common  anger  might  be  discharged  with  unanimity. 

They  had  almost  given  over  sacrificing,  and  consult- 
ing the  flame  or  the  entrails  ;  for  no  respite  or  reversal 
of  their  sufterings  Lad  followed  their  most  assiduous 
acts  of  deprecation.  Moreover,  the  omens  were  generally 
considered  by  the  priests  to  have  been  unpropitious 
or  adverse.  A  sheep  had  been  discovered  to  have, 
instead  of  a  liver,  something  very  like  a  gizzard ;  a  sow 
had  chewed  and  swallowed  the  flowers  with  which  it 
had  been  embellished  for  the  sacrifice ;  and  a  calf,  after 
receiving  the  fatal  blow,  instead  of  lying  down  and 
dying,  dashed  into  the  temple,  dripping  blood  upon 
the  pavement  as  it  went,  and  at  last  fell  and  expired 


142  CALLISTA  ; 

just  before  the  sacred  adytum.  In  despair  the  people 
took  to  fortune-telling  and  its  attendant  arts.  Old 
crones  were  found  in  plenty  with  their  strange  rites, 
the  stranger  the  more  welcome.  Trenches  were  dug 
in  by-places  for  sacrifices  to  the  infernal  gods  ;  amu- 
lets, rings,  counters,  tablets,  pebbles,  nails,  bones, 
feathers,  Ephesian  or  Egyptian  legends,  were  in  re- 
quest, and  raised  the  hopes,  or  beguiled  and  occupied 
the  thoughts,  of  those  who  else  would  have  been 
directly  dwelling  on  their  sufferings,  present  or  in 
prospect. 

Others  were  occupied,  whether  they  would  or  no, 
with  diversions  fiercer  and  more  earnest.  There  were 
continual  altercations  between  farmers,  small  proprie- 
tors of  land,  government  and  city  officials, -alterca- 
tions so  manifold  and  violent,  that  even  were  there 
no  hubbub  of  voices,  and  no  incoherence  of  wrath  and 
rage  to  complicate  it,  w^e  should  despair  of  setting  it 
before  the  reader.  An  oflBcer  from  the  camp  was 
expostulating  with  one  of  the  municipal  authorities 
that  no  corn  had  been  sent  thither  for  the  last  six  or 
seven  days,  and  the  functionary  attacked  had  thrown 
the  blame  on  the  farmer,  and  he  in  turn  had  protested 
that  he  could  not  get  cattle  to  bring  the  waggons  into 
Sicca ;  those  which  he  had  set  out  with  had  died  of 
exhaustion  on  the  journey.  A  clerk,  as  we  now 
speak,  in  the  Officium  of  the  society  of  publicans  or 
collectors  of  annona,  was  threatening  a  number  of 
small  tenants  with  ejection  for  not  sending  in  their 
rated  portion  of  corn  for  tlie  Koman  people: — the 
Officium  of  the  Notariiis,  or  assistant  prefect,  had 
written  up  to  Sicca  from  Carthage  in  violent  terms ; 
and  come  it  must,  though  the  locusts  had  eaten  up 
every  stack  and  granary.  A  number  of  half-starved 
peasants  had  been  summoned  for  payment  of  their 
taxes,  and  in  spite  of  their  ignorance  of  Latin,  they  had 
been  made  to  understand  that  death  was  the  stern 
penalty  of  neglecting   to   bring  the  coin.     They,  ou 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CEXTURT.      143 

the  other  hand,  by  their  fierce  do2:2:edness  of  manner. 


seemed   to   signity  by  way  of  answer  that  death  was 
not  a  penalty,  unless  life  was  a  boon. 

The  villicus  of  one  of  the  decurions,  who  had  an 
estate  in  the  neighbourhood,  was  laying  his  miseries 
before  the  man  of  business  of  his  employer,  "  What 
are  we  to  do?"  he  said.  "Half  the  gang  of  slaves  is 
dead,  and  the  other  half  is  so  feeble,  that  I  can't  get 
through  the  work  of  the  month.  We  ought  to  be 
sheep-shearing ;  you  have  no  chance  of  wool.  We 
ought  to  be  swarming  the  bees,  pressing  the  honey, 
boiling  and  puritying  the  wax.  W^e  ought  to  be 
pkicking  the  white  leaves  of  the  camomile,  and  steep- 
ing the  golden  flowers  in  oil.  W^e  ought  to  be  gather- 
ing the  wild  grapes,  sifting  oiF  the  flowers,  and  preserv- 
ing the  residue  in  honey.  W"e  ought  to  be  sowing 
brassicum,  parsley,  and  coriander  against  next  spring. 
We  ought  to  be  cheese-making.  We  ought  to  be  baking 
white  and  red  bricks  and  tiles  in  the  sun ;  we  have  no 
hands  for  the  purpose.  The  villicus  is  not  to  blame, 
but  the  anger  of  the  gods."  The  country  emploi/e  of 
the  procurator  of  the  imperial  Bapliia  protests  that 
the  insect  cannot  be  found  from  which  the  dye  is 
extracted;  and  argues  that  the  locusts  must  have  de- 
voured them,  or  the  plant  on  which  they  feed,  or  that 
they  have  been  carried  oft"  by  the  pestilence.  Here  is 
old  Corbulus  in  agonies  for  his  febrifuge,  and  a  slave 
of  his  is  in  high  words  with  the  market-carrier,  who 
tells  him  that  Mago  is  dead  of  a  worse  fever  than  his 
master's,  from  whom  the  root  was  to  have  come. 
"The  rogue!"  cried  the  slave,  "ray  master  has  con- 
tracted with  him  for  the  year,  and  has  paid  him  the 
money  in  advance."  A  jeering  and  mocking  from  the 
crowd  assailed  the  unfortunate  domestic,  who  too 
truly  foreboded  that  his  return  without  the  medicine 
would  be  the  si^'-^al  for  his  summary  committal  to  the 
'pistrinum.  "  L1.1;  old  Corbulus  follow  old  Mago  in  his 
passage  to  p'erdition,"  said  one  of  the  rabble;  "let 
him  take  his  physic  with  Pluto,  and  leave  us  the  bread 


144  CALLISTA ; 

and  wine  on  wliicTi  lie's  grown  gouty."  "Bread, 
bread  !"  was  the  response  elicited  by  this  denunciation, 
and  it  spread  into  a  circle  broader  than  that  of  which 
the  slave  and  the  carrier  were  part. 

"Wine  and  bread,  Ceres  and  Liber!"  cried  a  young 
legionary,  who,  after  a  night  of  revelry,  was  emerging 
still  half  intoxicated  from  one  of  the  low  wine-shops 
in  the  vaults  which  formed  the  basement  of  the 
Thermcd  or  hot  baths ;  "  make  way  there,  you  filthy 
slime  of  the  earth,  you  half-kneaded,  half-fermented 
Africans,  who  never  yet  have  quite  been  men,  but 
have  ever  smelt  strong  of  the  baboon,  who  are  three 
quarters  must^  and  two  vinegar,  and  a  fifth  water, — 
as  I  was  saying,  you  are  like  bad  liquor,  and  the  sight 
of  you  disag-rees  with  the  stomach  and  affects  the  eyes." 

The  crowd  looked  sullenly,  and  without  wincing, 
at  his  shield,  which  was  the  only  portion  of  his  mili- 
tary accoutrements  which  he  had  preserved  after  his 
carouse.  The  white  surface,  with  a  silver  boss  in  the 
centre,  surrounded  by  first  a  white  and  then  a  red 
circle,  and  the  purple  border,  showed  that  he  belonged 
to  the  Tertiani  or  third  Italic  Legion,  which  had  been 
stationed  in  Africa  since  the  time  of  Augustus.  "  Vile 
double-tongued  mongrels,"  he  continued,  "what  are 
you  fit  for  but  to  gather  the  fruits  of  the  earth  for 
your  owners  and  lords,  '  ^Romanes  dominos  rerum^?' 
And  if  there  are  now  no  fruits  to  reap,  why  your 
service  is  gone.  Go  home  and  die,  and  drown  your- 
selves, for  what  are  you  fit  for,  except  to  take  your  dead 
corpses  away  from  the  nostrils  of  a  Eoman,  the  cream 
of  humankind?  Te  base-born  apes,  that's  why  you 
catch  the  pestilence,  because  our  blood  mantles  and 
foams  in  our  ruddy  veins  like  new  milk  in  the  wine- 
cup,  which  is  too  strong  for  this  clime,  and  ray  blood 
is  up,  and  I  drink  a  full  measure  of  it  to  great 
Eome;  for  what  does  old  Horace  say,  but  'Nunc  est 
bibendum  ^  ?'  and  so  get  out  of  my  way." 

1  "  The  Romans,  the  loi-ds  of  the  world." 

2  '<  Now's  the  time  for  a  bnut." 


A  SKETCH  OE  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     145 

To  a  good  part  of  the  multitude,  both  peasantry 
and  town  rabble,  Latin  was  unintelligible ;  but  they 
all  understood  vocabulary  and  syntax  and  logic,  as 
soon  as  he  drew  his  knuckles  across  one  fellow's  face 
who  refused  to  move  from  his  path,  and  as  soon  as 
his  insult  was  returned  by  the  latter  with  a  thrust  of 
the  dagger.  A  rush  was  made  upon  him,  on  which  he 
made  a  face  at  them,  shook  his  fist,  and  leaping  on 
one  side,  ran  with  great  swiftness  to  an  open  space  in 
advance.  From  his  quarrelsome  humour  rather  than 
from  fear,  he  raised  a  cry  of  alarm ;  on  which  two  or 
three  fellow-soldiers  made  their  appearance  from  simi- 
lar dens  of  intoxication  and  vice,  and  came  up  to  the 
rescue.  The  mob  assailed  them  with  stones,  and  the 
cream  of  human  nature  was  likely  to  be  roughly 
churned,  when,  seeing  matters  were  becoming  serious, 
they  suddenly  took  to  their  heels,  and  got  into  the 
Temple  of  Esculapius  on  one  side  of  the  Forum.  The 
mob  followed,  the  ministers  of  the  sacred  place  at- 
tempted to  shut  the  gates,  a  scuffle  ensued,  and  a  riot 
was  in  progress.  Self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of 
man ;  trembling  for  the  safety  of  his  noble  buildings, 
and  considering  that  it  was  a  bread  riot,  as  it  really 
was,  the  priest  of  the  god  came  forward,  rebuked  the 
mob  for  its  impiety,  and  showed  the  absurdity  of  sup- 
posing that  there  were  loaves  in  his  enclosure  to  satisfy 
their  wants ;  but  he  added  that  there  was  a  baker's 
shop  at  the  other  end  of  the  Forum,  which  was  one  of 
the  most  considerable  in  Sicca. 

A  slight  impulse  determines  the  movements  of  an 
excited  multitude.  Off  they  went  to  the  quarter  in 
question,  where  certainly  there  was  a  very  large  and 
handsome  store  of  a  substantial  dealer  in  grain  of  all 
sorts,  and  in  other  produce.  The  shop,  however, 
seemed  on  this  occasion  to  be  but  poorly  furnished ; 
for  the  baker  was  a  prudent  man,  and  feared  a  display 
of  provisions  which  would  be  an  invitation  to  hungry 
men.  The  assailants,  however,  were  not  to  be  baffled ; 
Bome  one  cried  out  that  the  man  had  withdrawn  hia 


146  CAL^Ii.TA  ; 

corn  from  the  market  for  his  own  ends,  and  that  great 
stores  AYere  accumulated  within.  They  avail  them- 
selves of  the  hint ;  they  pour  in  through  the  open 
front,  th'e  baker  escapes  as  he  may,  his  mills  and  ovens 
are  smashed,  the  house  is  ransacked  ;  whatever  is  found 
is  seized,  thrown  about,  wasted,  eaten,  as  the  case  may 
be ;  and  the  mob  gaius  strength  and  appetite  for  fresh 
Bxploits. 

However-,  the  rioters  have  no  definite  plan  of  action 
yet.  Some  of  them  have  penetrated  into  the  stable 
behind  the  house  in  search  of  corn.  They  find  the 
mill-ass  which  ground  for  the  baker,' and  bring  it  out. 
It  is  a  beast  of  more  than  ordinary  pretensions,  such 
as  you  would  not  often  see  in  a  mill,  showing  both 
the  wealth  of  the  owner  and  the  flourishing  condition 
of  his  trade.  The  asses  of  Africa  are  finer  than  those 
in  the  north  ;  but  this  is  fine  for  an  African.  One 
fellow  mounts  upon  it,  and  sets  oft'  with  the  world 
before  him,  like  a  knight-errant,  seeking  an  adventure, 
the  rabble  at  his  tail  being  his  squire.  He  begins  the 
circuit  of  the  Forum,  and  picks  up  its  rift-raft'  as  he 
goes  along ; — here  some  rascal  boys,  there  some 
drunken  women,  here  again  a  number  of  half-brutal- 
ized country  slaves  and  peasants.  Partly  out  of  curi- 
osity, partly  from  idleness,  from  ill  temper,  from 
hope  of  spoil,  from  a  vague  desire  to  be  doing  some- 
thing or  other,  every  one  who  has  nothiug  to  lose  by 
the  adventure  crowds  around  and  behind  him.  And  on 
the  contrary,  as  he  advances,  and  the  noise  and  com- 
motion increases,  every  one  who  has  a  position  of  any 
sort,  the  confidential  verncd  of  great  families,  the  far- 
mers, shopkeepers,  men  of  business,  officials,  vanish 
from  the  scene  of  action  without  delay.  "Africa, 
Africa!"  is  now  the  cry;  the  signal  in  that  country, 
as  an  ancient  writer  tells  us,  that  the  parties  raising 
it  have  something  new  in  hand,  and  have  a  mind  to 
do  it. 

Suddenly,  as  they  march  on,  a  low  and  awful  growl 
/a  heard.     It  comes  from  the  booth  of  a  servant  of  the 


A  SKETCH  OP  I'HE  THIRD  CENTURY.     147 

irnperial  court.  He  is  employed  as  a  transporter  of 
wild  beasts  from  the  interior  to  the  coast,  where  thej 
are  shipped  for  Home ;  and  he  has  charge  at  present  of 
a  noble  lion,  who  is  sitting  majestically,  looking  through 
the  bars  of  his  cage  at  the  rabble,  who  now  begin  to  look 
at  him.  In  demeanour  and  in  mental  endowments  he 
has  the  advantage  of  them.  It  was  at  this  moment,  while 
they  were  closing,  hustling  each  other,  staring  at  the 
beast,  and  hoping  to  provoke  him,  that  a  shrill  voice 
cried  out,  "  Christianos  ad  leones,  Christianos  ad  leo- 
nes!"  the  Christians  to  the  lions!  A  sudden  and 
dead  silence  ensued,  as  if  the  words  had  struck  the 
breatli  out  of  the  promiscuous  throng.  An  interval 
passed ;  and  then  the  same  voice  was  heard  again, 
"  Christianos  ad  leones  !"  This  time  the  whole  Forum 
took  it  up  from  one  end  to  the  other.  The  fate  of  the 
day,  the  direction  of  the  movement,  was  decided ;  a 
distinct  object  was  obtained,  and  the  only  wonder  was 
that  the  multitude  had  been  so  long  to  seek  and  so 
slow  to  find  so  obvious  a  cause  of  their  misfortunes,  so 
adequate  a  subject  for  their  vengeance.  "  Christianos 
ad  leones!"  was  shouted  out  by  town  and  country, 
priests  and  people.  "Long  live  the  emperor!  long 
live  Decius!  he  told  us  this  long  ago.  There's  the 
edict ;  it  never  has  been  obeyed.  Death  to  the  ma- 
gistrates !  To  the.  Christians  !  to  the  Christians  !  Up 
with  great  Jove,  down  with  the  atheists!" 

They  were  commencing  their  march  when  the  ass 
caught  their  eye.  "  The  Christians'  god ! "  they  shouted 
out;  "the  god  of  the  Christians!"  Their  first  im- 
pulse was  to  give  the  poor  beast  to  the  lion,  their  next 
to  sacrifice  it,  but  they  did  not  know  to  whom.  Then 
they  said  they  would  make  the  Christians  worship  it ; 
and  dressing  it  up  in  tawdry  finery,  they  retained  it  at 
the  head  of  their  procession. 


l2 


148  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"By  the  time  that  tliey  had  got  round  again  to  the 
unlucky  baker's,  the  mob  had  been  swelled  to  a  size 
which  even  the  area  of  the  Forum  would  not  contain, 
and  it  filled  the  adjacent  streets.  And  by  the  same 
time  it  had  broken  upon  its  leaders,  and,  indeed, 
upon  every  one  who  used  his  reason  at  all,  that  it  was 
very  far  from  certain  that  there  were  any  Christians  in 
Sicca,  and  if  so,  still  very  far  from  easy  to  say  where 
they  were.  And  the  difficulty  was  of  so  practical  a 
character  as  to  keep  them  inactive  for  the  space  of 
several  hours.  Meanwhile  their  passions  were  excited 
to  the  boiling  point  by  the  very  presence  of  the  diffi- 
culty, as  men  go  mad  of  thirst  when  water  is  denied 
them.  At  length,  after  a  long  season  of  such  violent 
commotion,  such  restless  pain,  such  curses,  shrieks, 
and  blasphemies,  such  bootless  gesticulations,  such 
aimless  contests  with  each  other,  that  they  seemed  to 
be  already  inmates  of  the  prison  beneath,  they  set  oftMn  a 
blind  way  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  city  as  before  they 
had  paraded  round  the  Forum,  still  in  the  knight-errant 
line,  looking  out  for  what  might  turn  up  where  they 
were  sure  of  nothing,  and  relieving  the  intense  irrita- 
tion of  their  passions  by  locomotion,  if  nothing  more 
substantial  was  offered  to  them. 

It  was  an  awful  day  for  the  respectable  inhabit- 
ants of  the  place  ;  worse  than  anything  even  the  most 
timid  of  them   had  anticipated,  when  they  showed 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.      149 

jealousy  of  a  popular  movement  against  the  proscribed 
religion ;  for  the  stimulus  of  famine  and  pestilence 
was  added  to  hatred  of  Christianity,  in  that  unrea- 
soning multitude.  The  magistrates  shut  themselves 
up  in  dismay ;  the  small  body  of  Eoman  soldiery  re- 
served their  strength  for  the  defence  of  themselves  ; 
and  the  poor  wretches,  not  a  few,  who  had  fallen  from 
the  faith,  and  oflered  sacrifice,  hung  out  from  their 
doors  sinful  heatlien  symbols  to  avert  a  storm  against 
which  apostasy  was  no  sufficient  safeguard.  In  this 
conduct  the  Gnostics  and  other  sectaries  imitated  them, 
while  tlie  Tertullianists  took  a  more  manly  part,  from 
principle  or  pride. 

It  would  require  the  brazen  voice  which  Homer 
speaks  of,  or  the  magic  pen  of  Sir  Walter,  to  catalogue 
and  to  picture,  as  far  as  it  is  lawful  to  do  either,  the 
figures  and  groups  of  that  most  miserable  procession. 
As  it  went  forward  it  gained  variety  and  strength, 
which  the  circuit  of  the  Forum  could  not  furnish.  The 
more  respectable  religious  establishments  shut  their 
gates,  and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  priests 
of  Jupiter,  the  educational  establishments  of  the  Tem- 
ple of  Mercury,  the  Temple  of  the  Grenius  of  Eome 
near  the  Capitol,  the  hierophants  of  Isis,  the  Minerva, 
the  Juno,  the  Esculapius,  viewed  the  popular  rising 
with  terror  and  disgust ;  but  these  were  not  the 
popular  worships.  The  vast  homestead  of  Astarte, 
which  in  the  number  and  avowed  profligacy  of  its 
inhabitants  rivalled  the  vaults  upon  the  Eorum  ;  the 
old  rites,  many  and  diversified,  if  separately  obscure, 
which  came  from  Punic  times  ;  the  new  importa- 
tions from  Syria  and  Phrygia,  and  a  number  of  other 
haunts  and  schools  of  depravity  and  crime,  did  their 
part  in  swelling  or  giving  character  to  the  concourse. 
The  hungry  and  idle  rabble,  the  filthy  beggars  who 
fed  on  the  olfal  of  the  sacrifices,  the  drivers  and 
slaughterers  of  the  beasts  sacrificed ;  the  tumblers  and 
mountebanks  who  amused  the  gaping  market-people ; 
dancers,  singers,  pipers  from  low  taverns  and  drinking- 


150  CALLISTA ; 

houses ;  infamous  creatures,  young  and  old,  men  and 
boys,  half  naked  and  not  half  sober;  brutal  blacks, 
the  aboriginal  race  of  the  Atlas,  with  their  appetites 
written  on  their  skulls  and  features  ;  Canaanites,  as 
they  called  themselves,  from  the  coast ;  the  wild  beast- 
keepers  from  the  amphitheatre  ;  troops  of  labourers 
from  the  fields,  to  whom  the  epidemic  was  a  time  of 
Saturnalia ;  and  the  degraded  company,  alas !  how 
numerous  and  how  pitiable,  who  took  their  nightly 
stand  in  long  succession  at  the  doors  of  their  several 
cells  in  the  deep  galleries  under  the  Thermse ;  all 
these,  and  many  others,  had  their  part  and  place  in  the 
procession.  There  you  might  see  the  devilish  emblems 
of  idolatry  borne  aloft  by  wretches  from  the  great 
Punic  Temple,  while  frantic  forms,  ragged  and  famished, 
wasted  and  shameless,  leapt  and  pranced  around  them. 
There  too  was  a  choir  of  Bacchanals,  ready  at  a  mo- 
ment with  songs  as  noisy  as  they  were  unutterable. 
And  there  was  the  priest  of  the  Punic  Saturn,  the 
child-clevourer,  a  sort  of  Moloch,  to  whom  the  martyr- 
dom of  Christians  was  a  sacred  rite;  he  and  all  "his 
attendants  in  fiery-coloured  garments,  as  became  a  san- 
guinary religion.  And  there,  moreover,  was  a  band  of 
fanatics,  devotees  of  Cybele  or  of  the  Syrian  goddess, 
if  indeed  the  two  rites  were  distinct.  They  were  be- 
dizened with  ribbons  and  rags  of  various  colours,  and 
smeared  over  with  pain-t.  They  had  long  hair  like 
women,  and  turbans  on  their  heads.  They  pushed 
their  way  to  the  head  of  the  procession,  being  quite 
worthy  of  the  post  of  honour,  and,  seizing  the  baker's 
ass,  put  their  goddess  on  the  back  of  it.  Some  of 
them  were  playing  the  fife,  others  clashing  cymbals, 
others  danced,  others  yelled,  others  rolled  their  heads, 
and  others  flogged  themselves.  Such  was  the  cha- 
racter of  the  frenzied  host,  which  progressed  slowly 
through  the  streets,  while  every  now  and  then,  when 
there  was  an  interval  in  the  hubbub,  the  words  "  Chris- 
tianos  ad  leones  "  were  thundered  out  by  some  ruflSan. 
voice,  and  a  thousand  others  fiercely  responded. 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIRD  CEXTURT.     151 

Still  no  Christian  was  forthcoming;  and  it  was 
plain  that  the  rage  of  the  multitude  must  be  dis- 
charged in  other  quarters,  if  the  difficulty  continued 
in  satisfying  it.  At  length  some  one  recollected  the 
site  of  the  Christian  chapel,  when  it  existed ;  thither 
went  the  multitude,  and  effected  an  entrance  without 
delay.  It  had  long  been  turned  to  other  purposes, 
and  was  now  a  store  of  casks  and  leathern  bottles. 
The  miserable  sacristan  had  long  given  up  any  practi- 
cal observance  of  his  f\iith,  and  remained  on  the  spot 
a  keeper  of  the  premises  for  the  trader  who  owned 
them.  They  found  him,  and  dragged  him  into  the 
street,  and  brought  him  forward  to  the  ass,  and  to  the 
idol  on  its  back,  and  bade  him  worship  the  one  and 
the  other.  The  poor  wretch  obeyed  ;  he  worshipped 
the  ass,  he  worshipped  the  idol,  and  he  w^orshipped 
the  genius  of  the  emperor  ;  but  his  persecutors  wanted 
blood  ;  they  would  not  submit  to  be  cheated  of  their 
draught ;  so  when  they  had  made  him  do  whatever 
they  exacted,  they  flung  him  under  the  feet  of  the 
multitude,  who,  as  they  passed  on,  soon  trod  all  life 
and  breath  out  of  him,  and  sent  him  to  the  powers 
below,  to  whom  he  had  just  before  been  making  his 
profession. 

Their  next  adventure  was  with  a  Tertullianist,  who 
stationed  himself  at  his  shop-door,  displayed  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  and  walking  leisurely  forward,  seized  the 
idol  on  the  ass's  back,  broke  it  over  his  knee,  and  flung 
the  portions  into  the  crowd.  For  a  few  minutes  they 
stared  on  him  with  astonishment,  then  some  women 
fell  upon  him  with  their  nails  and  teeth,  and  tore  the 
poor  fanatic  till  he  fell  bleeding  and  lifeless  upon  the 
ground. 

In  the  higher  and  better  part  of  the  city,  which 
they  now  approached,  lived  the  widow  of  a  Duumvir, 
who  in  his  day  had  made  a  bold  profession  of  Chris- 
tianity. This  well-connected  lady  was  a  Christian 
also,  and  was  sheltered  by  her  great  friends  from  tho 


152  CALLISTA ; 

persecution.  She  was  bringing  up  a  family  in  great 
privacy,  and  witli  straitened  means,  and  with  as  much 
religious  strictness  as  was  possible  under  the  circum- 
stances of  the  place.  She  kept  them  from  all  bad 
sights  and  bad  company,  was  careful  as  to  the  cha- 
racter of  the  slaves  she  placed  about  them,  and  taught 
them  all  she  knew  of  her  religion,  which  was  quite 
sufficient  for  their  salvation.  They  had  all  been  bap- 
tized, some  by  herself  in  default  of  the  proper  minister, 
and,  as  far  as  tliey  could  show  at  their  tender  ages, 
which  lay  between  thirteen  and  seven,  the  three  girls  and 
the  two  boys  were  advancing  in  the  love  of  truth  and 
sanctity.  Her  husband,  some  years  back,  when  pre- 
siding in  the  Forum,  had  punished  with  just  severity 
an  act  of  ungrateful  fraud  ;  and  the  perpetrator  had 
always  cherished  a  malignant  hatred  of  him  and  his. 
The  moment  of  gratifying  it  had  now  arrived,  and  he 
pointed  out  to  the  infuriated  rabble  the  secluded  man- 
sion where  the  Christian  household  dwelt.  ^^  He  could 
not  offer  to  them  a  more  acceptable  service,  and  the 
lady's  modest  apartment  was  soon  swarming  with  ene- 
mies of  her  God  and  His  followers.  In  spite  of  her 
heartrending  cries  and  supplications,  her  children  were 
seized,  and  when  the  youngest  boy  clung  to  her,  the 
mother  Avas  thrown  senseless  upon  the  pavement. 
The  whole  five  were  carried  ofl'  in  triumph  ;  it  was  the 
greatest  success  of  the  day.  There  was  some  hesita- 
tion how  to  dispose  of  them  ;  at  last  the  girls  were 
handed  over  to  the  priestesses  of  Astarte,  and  the 
boys  to  the  loathsome  votaries  of  Cybele. 

Kevenge  upon  Christians  was  the  motive  principle 
of  the  riot ;  but  the  prospect  of  plunder  stimulated 
numbers,  and  here  Christians  could  not  minister  to 
their  desires.  They  began  the  day  by  the  attack  upon 
the  provision-shop,  and  now  they  had  reached  the 
aristocratic  quarter  of  the  city,  and  they  gazed  with 
envy  and  cupidity  at  the  noble  mansions  which  occu- 
pied it.     They  began  to  shout  out,  "  Bread,  bread  !  '* 


A   SKETCH   0¥   THE   THIED    CENTtJRT.  153 

while  they  uttered  threats  against  the  Christians'; 
they  violently  beat  at  the  closed  gates,  and  looked 
about  for  means  of  scaling  the  high  walls  which  de- 
fended them  in  front.  The  cravings  of  famished  men 
soon  take  form  and  organization  ;  they  began  to  ask 
relief  from  house  to  house.  Nothing  came  amiss ; 
and  loaves,  figs,  grapes,  wine  found  their  way  into  the 
hands  and  mouths  of  those  who  were  the  least  exhausted 
and  the  least  enfeebled.  A  second  line  of  fierce  sup- 
plicants succeeded  to  the  first ;  and  it  was  plain  that, 
unless  some  diversion  were  effected,  the  respectable 
quarter  of  Sicca  had  found  a  worse  enemy  than  the 
locust. 

The  houses  of  the  government  susceptor  or  tax-col- 
lector, of  the  tabularius  or  registrar,  of  the  defensor 
or  city  counsel,  and  one  or  two  others  had  already  been 
the  scene  of  collisions  between  the  domestic  slaves 
and  the  multitude,  when  a  demand  was  made  upon 
the  household  of  another  of  the  Curia,  who  held  the 
oflSce  of  Mamen  Dialis.  He  was  a  wealthy,  easy- 
going man,  generally  popular,  with  no  appetite  for 
persecution  at  all,  but  still  no  desire  to  be  persecuted. 
He  had  more  than  tolerated  the  Christians,  and  had 
at  this  time  a  Christian  among  his  slaves.  This  was  a 
Grreek,  a  splendid  cook  and  perfumer,  and  he  would 
nob  have  lost  him  for  a  large  sum  of  money.  However 
life  and  limb  were  nearer  to  him  even  than  his  dinner, 
and  a  Jonas  must  be  cast  overboard  to  save  the  ship. 
In  trepidation,  yet  with  greater  satisfaction,  his  fellow- 
domestics  thrust  the  poor  helpless  man  out  of  the 
house,  and  secured  the  door  behind  him.  He  was  a 
man  of  middle  age,  of  a  grave  aspect,  and  he  looked 
silently  and  calmly  upon  the  infuriated  and  yelling 
multitude,  who  were  swarming  up  the  hill  about  him 
and  swelling  the  number  of  his  persecutors.  "What 
had  been  his  prospects  had  he  remained  in  his  earthly 
master's  service  ?  his  fill  of  meat  and  drink  while  he 
was  strong  and  skilful,   the  stocks  or  scourge  if  he 


I54i  CALLISTA ; 

ever  failed  to  plense  him,  and  the  old  age  and  death  of 
the  worn-out  hack  who  once  has  caracoled  in  the  pro- 
cession, or  snorted  at  the  coming  light.  AVhat  are  his 
prospects  now  ?  j  moment's  agony,  a  martyr's  death, 
and  the  everlasting  beatific  vision  of  Him  for  whom 
he  died.  The  multitude  cry  out,  "  To  the  ass  or  to  the 
lion !  "  worship  the  ass,  or  fight  the  lion.  He  was 
dragged  to  the  ass's  head,  and  commanded  to  kneel 
down  before  the  irrational  beast.  In  the  course  of  a 
minute  he  had  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  had  signed 
himself  with  the  cross,  had  confessed  his  Saviour,  and 
had  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  multitude.  They 
anticipated  the  lion  of  the  amphitheatre. 

A  lull  foUow^ed,  sure  to  be  succeeded  by  a  fresh 
storm.  Not  every  household  had  a  Christian  cook 
to  make  a  victim  of.  Seditions,  plunder,  and  riot  were 
becoming  the  order  of  the  day  ;  successive  messengers 
were  sent  up  in  breathless  haste  to  the  capitol  and  the 
camp  for  aid,  but  the  E-omans  returned  for  answer  that 
they  had  enough  to  do  in  defending  the  government 
buildings  and  offices.  They  suggested  measures,  how- 
ever, for  putting  the  mob  on  a  false  scent,  or  involving 
them  in  some  difficult  or  tedious  enterprise,  which 
would  give  the  authorities  time  for  deliberation,  and. 
for  taking  the  rioters  at  disadvantage.  If  the  magis- 
trates could  get  them  out  of  the  city,  it  would  be  a 
great  point ;  they  could  then  shut  the  gates  upon 
them,  and  deal  with  them  as  they  would.  In  that  case 
too  the  insurgents  would  straggle,  and  divide,  and 
then  they  might  be  disposed  of  in  detail.  They  were 
showing  symptoms  of  returning  fury,  when  a  voice 
suddenly  cried  out,  "  Agellius  the  Christian  !  Agelbus 
the  sorcerer !  Agellius  to  the  lions  !  To  the  farm  of 
Varius — to  the  cottage  of  Agellius — to  the  south-west 
gate  !  "  A  sudden  yell  burst  forth  from  the  vast  mul- 
titude when  the  voice  ceased.  The  impulse  had  been 
given  as  at  the  first ;  the  tide  of  human  beings  ebbed 
and  retreated,  and,  licking  the  base  of  the  hill,  rushed 


A    SKETCH    OP    THE    THIllD    CEKTURY. 


155 


velnemently  on  one  side,  and  roared  like  a  torrent 
towards  the  south-west.  Juba,  thy  prophecy  is  soon 
to  be  fulfilled !  The  locusts  will  bring  more  harm  on 
thy  brother's  home  than  imperial  edict  or  local  ma- 
gistrate. The  decline  of  day  will  hardly  prevent  the 
visitation ! 


156  CALLISTA; 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  CHAKGE  had  passed  over  the  fair  face  of  nature,  as 
seen  from  the  cottage  of  Agellius,  since  that  evening  on 
which  our  story  opened ;  and  it  is  so  painful  to  con- 
template waste,  decay,  and  disappointment,  that  we 
mean  to  say  little  about  it.  There  was  the  same 
cloudless  sky  as  then;  and  the  sun  travelled  in  its 
silent  and  certain  course,  with  even  a  more  intense 
desire  than  then  to  ripen  grain  and  fruit  for  the  use 
of  man ;  but  its  occupation  was  gone,  for  fruit  and 
grain  were  not,  nor  man  to  collect  and  to  enjoy 
them.  A  dark  broad  shadow  passed  across  the  beauti- 
ful prospect,  and  disfigured  it.  When  you  looked  more 
closely,  it  was  as  if  a  fire  had  burned  up  the  whole 
surface  included  under  that  shadow,  and  had  stripped 
the  earth  of  its  clothing.  Nothing  had  escaped ;  not 
a  head  of  khennah,  not  a  rose  or  carnation,  not  an 
orange  or  an  orange  blossom,  not  a  hoccone,  not  a 
cluster  of  unripe  grapes,  not  a  berry  of  the  olive,  not 
a  blade  of  grass.  Gardens,  meadows,  vineyards,  or- 
chards, copses,  instead  of  rejoicing  in  the  rich  variety  of 
hue  which  lately  was  their  characteristic,  were  now 
reduced  to  one  dreary  cinder-colour.  The  smoke  of 
fires  was  actually  rising  from  many  points,  where  the 
spoilt  and  poisonous  vegetation  was  burning  in  heaps, 
ov  the  countless  corpses  of  the  invading  foe,  or  of  the 
cattle,  or  of  the  human  beings  whom  the  pestilence  had 
carried  off.     The  most  furious  inroad  of  savage  hordes, 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     157 

of  Yandals  or  of  Saracens,  who  were  destined  at  suc- 
cessive times  to  come  and  waste  that  cctuntry,  could  not 
have  spread  sucli  thorough  desolation.  The  slaves  of 
the  farm  of  Varius  were  sorrowfully  turning  to  a  new 
employment,  that  of  clearing  away  the  wreck  and  dis- 
appointment of  the  bright  spring  from  flower-bed,  vine- 
yard, and  field. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  eventful  day  whose 
course  we  have  been  tracing  in  the  preceding  chapters, 
that  a  sharp-looking  boy  presented  himself  to  Agellius, 
who  was  directing  his  labourers  in  their  work.  "  I 
am  come  from  Jucundus,"  he  said;  "he  has  instant 
need  of  you.  You  are  to  go  Avith  me,  and  by  my  way ; 
and  this  is  the  proof  I  tell  you  truth.  He  sends  you 
this  note,  and  wishes  you  in  a  bad  time  the  best  gifts 
of  Bacchus  and  Ceres." 

Agellius  took  the  tablets,  and  went  with  them  across 
the  road  to  the  place  where  CcTecilius  was  at  work,  in 
appearance  a  slave.  The  letter  ran  thus  : — "  Jucun- 
dus to  Agellius  :  I  trust  you  are  well  enough  to  move ; 
you  are  not  safe  for  many  days  in  your  cottage ;  there 
is  a  rising  this  morning  against  the  Christians,  and 
you  may  be  visited.  TJnlesa  you  are  ambitious  of 
Styx  and  Tartarus,  follow  the  boy  without  question- 
ing."    Agellius  showed  the  letter  to  the  priest. 

"We  are  no  longer  safe  here,  my  father,"  he  said; 
"whither  shall  we  go?  Let  us  go  together.  Can 
you  take  me  to  Carthage  ?" 

"  Carthage  is  quite  as  dangerous,"  answered  Coeci- 
lius,  "  and  Sicca  is  more  central.  We  can  but  leap 
into  the  sea  at  Carthage ;  here  there  are  many  lines  to 
retreat  upon.  I  am  known  there,  I  am  not  known  here. 
Here,  too,  I  hear  all  that  goc3  on  through  the  procon- 
sulate anil  Numidia." 

"  But  what  can  we  do  ?"  asked  Agellius  ;  "here  we 
cannot  remain,  and  you  at  least  cannot  venture  into 
the  city.  Somewhither  we  must  go,  and  where  is 
that?" 


158  CALLISTA ; 

The  priest  thought.  "  "We  must  separate,"  he  said. 
The  tears  came  into  Agellius's  eyes. 

"Though  I  am  a  stranger,"  continued  Cajcilius,  "I 
know  more  of  the  neighbourliood  of  Sicca  than  you 
who  are  a  native.  There  is  a  famous  Christian  retreat 
on  the  north  of  the  citj,  and  by  this  time  I  doubt  iiot, 
or  rather  I  know,  it  is  full  of  refugees.  The  fury  of 
the  enemy  is  extending  on  all  hands,  and  our  brethren, 
from  as  far  as  Cirfcha  round  to  Curubis,  are  falling  back 
upon  it.  The  only  difficulty  is  how  to  get  round  to  it 
without  going  througVi  Sicca." 

"Let  us  go  together,"  said  Agellius. 

Csecilius  showed  signs  of  perplexity,  and  his  mind 
retired  into  itself.  He  seemed  for  the  moment  to  be 
simply  absent  from  the  scene  about  him,  but  soon 
his  intelligence  returned.  "  IN'o,"  he  said;  "we  must 
separate, — for  the  time ;  it  will  not  be  for  long.  That 
is,  I  suppose,  your  uncle  will  take  good  care  of  you, 
and  he  has  influence.  We  are  safest  just 'now  when 
most  independent  of  each  other.  It  is  only  for  a  while. 
We  shall  meet  again  soon ;  I  tell  you  so.  Did  we  keep 
together  just  now,  it  would  be  the  worse  for  each  of 
us.  You  go  with  the  boy  :  I  will  go  off  to  the  place  I 
mentioned." 

"  O  my  father,"  said  the  youth,  "how  will  you  get 
there?  What  shall  I  suffer  from  my  fears  about 
you?"  ,  _ 

"Fear  not,"  answered  CseciliUs,  "mind,  I  tell  you 
so.  It  will  be  a  trying  time,  but  my  hour  is  not  yet 
come.  I  am  good  lor  years  yet ;  so  are  you,  for  many 
more  than  mine.  He  will  protect  and  rescue  me, 
though  I  know  not  how.  Go,  leave  me  to  myself, 
Agellius." 

"  0  my  father,  my  only  stay  upon  earth,  \*hom  Grod 
sent  me  in  my  extreme  need,  to  whom  I  owe  myself, 
must  I  then  quit  you  ?  must  a  layman  desert  a  priest  ? 
the  young  the  old  ?  Ah  I  it  is  I  really,  not  you,  who 
am  without  protection.    Angels  surround  you,  father ; 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     159 

but  I  am  a  poor  wanderer.  Grive  me  your  blessing, 
that  evil  may  not  touch  me.     I  go." 

"  Do  not  kneel,"  said  the  priest ;  "  they  will  see  you. 
Stop,  I  have  got  to  tell  you  how  and  where  to  find 
me."  He  then  proceeded  to  give  him  the  neces- 
sary instructions.  "AYalk  out,"  he  said,  "along  the 
road  to  Thibursicumbur  to  the  third  milestone ;  then 
walk  a  thousand  steps ;  then  say  seven  patet'  nosfers, 
and  speak  to  the  man  upon  your  right  hand.  And 
now  away  with  you,  God  speed  you,  we  shall  not  long 
be  parted,"  and  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
him. 

"That  old  chap  gives  himself  airs,"  said  the  boy, 
when  Agellius  joined  him ;  "  what  may  he  be  ?  one  of 
your  slaves,  i^gellias?" 

"You're  a  pert  boy,"  answered  he,  "for  asking  me 
the  question." 

"  They  say  the  ChristijTns  brought  the  locusts,"  said 
Firmius,  "  by  their  enchantments  ;  and  there's  a  jolly 
row  beginning  in  the  Forum  just  now.  The  report  goes 
that  you  are  a  Christian." 

"  That's  because  your  people  have  nothing  better  to 
do  than  to  talk  agamst  their  neighbours." 

"Because  you  are  so  soft,  rather,"  said  the  boy. 
"  Another  man  would  have  knocked  me  down  for  saying 
it ;  but  you  are  lackadaisical  folk,  who  bear  insults 
tamely.     Arnobius  says  your  fother  was  a  Christian." 

"  Father  and  son  are  not  always  the  same  religion 
uow-a-days,"  said  AgeUius. 

"Ay,  ay,"  answered  Firmius,  "but  the  Christians 
came  from  Egypt ;  and  as  cook  there  is  the  son  of  cook, 
and  soldier  is  son  of  soldier,  so  Christian,  take  my 
Mord  for  it,  is  the  son  of  a  Christian." 

"  Christians  boast,  I  believe,"  answered  Agellius, 
"that  they  are  of  no  one  race  or  country,  but  are 
members  of  a  large  unpatriotic  fimiily,  whose  home  is 
in  the  sky." 

"Christians,"  answered  the  boy,  "would  never  have 


160  CALLISTA; 

framed  the  great  Boman  empire ;  that  was  the  work 
of  heroes.  Great  Ca?sar,  Marius,  Marcus  Brutus, 
Camillus,  Cicero,  Sylla,  Lucullus,  Scipio,  could  never 
have  been  Christians.  Arnohius  says  they  are  a 
skulking  set  of  fellows." 

"  I  suppose  you  wish  to  be  a  hero,"  said  Agellius. 

"  I  am  to  be  a  pleader,"  answered  Firmius ;  "  I 
should  like  to  be  a  great  orator  like  Cicero,  and  every 
one  listening  to  me." 

They  were  walking  along  the  top  of  a  mud  wall, 
which  separated  Varius's  farm  from  his  neighbour's, 
when  suddenly  Firmius,  who  led  the  way,  leapt  down 
into  a  copse,  which  reached  as  far  as  the  ravine  in 
which  the  knoll  terminated  towards  Sicca.  The  boy 
still  went  forward  by  devious  paths,  till  they  had 
mounted  as  high  as  the  city  wall. 

"  You  are  bringing  me  where  there  is  no  entrance," 
said  Agellius. 

The  boy  laughed.  "  Jucundus  told  me  to  bring 
you  by  a  blind  way,"  he  said.  "You  know  best  why. 
This  is  one  of  our  ways  in  and  out." 

There  was  an  aperture  in  the  wall,  and  the  bricks 
and  stones  about  it  were  loose,  and  admitted  of  re- 
moval. It  was  such  a  private  way  of  passage  as  school- 
boys know  of.  On  getting  through,  Agellius  found 
himself  in  a  neglected  garden  or  small  close.  Every 
thing  was  silent  about  them,  as  if  the  inhabitants 
were  away ;  there  was  a  great  noise  in  the  distance,  as 
if  something  unusual  were  going  on  in  the  heart  of 
the  town.  The  boy  told  him  to  follow  him  as  fast  as 
he  could  without  exciting  remark ;  and,  leading  him 
by  lanes  and  alleys  unknown  to  Agellius,  at  last 
brought  him  close  upon  the  scene  of  riot.  At  this 
time  the  attack  upon  the  baker's  shop  was  just  over; 
to  cross  the  Forum  was  to  shorten  his  journey,  and 
perhaps  was  safer  than  to  risk  meeting  the  mob  in  the 
streets.  Firmius  took  the  step  ;  and  while  their  atten- 
tion was  directed  elsewhere,  brought  Agellius  safely 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     161 

through  it.  The}^  then  proceeded  cautiously  as  before, 
till  tliey  stood  before  the  back  door  of  the  house  of 
Jucundus. 

'^  8ay  a  good  word  for  me  to  your  uncle,"  said  the 
boy ;  "  I  have  done  my  job.  He  must  remember  me 
handsomely  at  the  Augustalia,"  and  he  ran  away. 

Meanwhile  Csecilius  had  been  anxiously  considering 
the  course  which  it  was  safest  for  him  to  pursue.  He 
must  move,  but  he  must  wait  till  dusk,  when  the  ways 
were  clear,  and  the  light  uncertain.  Till  then  he 
must  keep  close  in  doors.  There  was  a  remarkable 
cavern  in  the  mountains  above  Sicca,  which  had  been 
used  as  a  place  of  refuge  for  Christians  from  the  very 
time  they  had  first  suffered  persecution  in  Roman 
Africa.  No  spot  in  its  whole  territory  seemed  more  fit 
for  what  is  called  a  base  of  operations,  from  which  the 
soldiers  of  the  Cross  might  advance,  or  to  which- they 
might  retire,  according  as  the  fury  of  their  enemy 
grew  or  diminished.  While  it  was  in  the  midst  of  a 
wilderness  dif&cult  of  access,  and  feared  as  the  resort 
of  ghosts  and  evil  influences,  it  was  not  far  from  a  city 
near  to  which  the  high  roads  met  from  Hippo  and 
from  Carthage.  A  branch  of  the  Bagradas,  navigable 
for  boats,  opened  a  way  from  it  through  the  woods, 
where  flight  and  concealment  were  easy  on  a  surprise, 
as  far  as  Madaura,  Vacca,  and  other  places ;  at  the 
same  time  it  commanded  the  vast  plain  on  the  south 
which  extended  to  the  roots  of  the  Atlas.  Just  now, 
the  persecution  growing,  many  deacons,  other  eccle- 
siastics, and  prominent  laymen  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  had  fallen  back  upon  this  cavern  or  grotto ; 
and  in  no  place  could  Caecilius  have  better  means  than 
here  of  learning  the  general  state  of  afi*airs,  and  of 
communicating  with  countries  beyond  the  seas.  He 
was  indeed  on  his  way  thither,  when  the  illness  of 
Agellius  miide  it  a  duty  for  him  to  stop  and  restore 
him,  and  attend  to  his  spiritual  needs ;  and  he  had 


162  CALLTSTA ; 

received  an  inward  intimation,  on  which  he  implicitly 
relied,  to  do  so. 

The  problem  at  this  moment  was,  how  to  reacli  the 
refuge  in  question.  His  direct  road  lay  through  Sicca; 
this  being  impracticable  at  present,  he  had  to  descend 
into  the  ravine  which  lay  between  him  and  the  city, 
and,  turning  to  the  left,  to  traverse  the  broad  plain, 
the  Campns  Martius  of  Sicca,  into  which  it  opened. 
Here  the  mountain  would  rise  abruptly  on  his  right 
with  those  steep  cliffs  which  we  have  already  described 
as  rounding  the  north  side  of  Sicca.  He  must  tra- 
verse many  miles  before  he  could  reach  the  point  at 
which  the  rock  lost  its  precipitous  character,  and 
changed  into  a  declivity  allowing  the  traveller  to 
ascend.  It  was  a  bold  undertaking ;  for  all  this  he 
had  to  accomplish  in  the  dark  before  the  morning 
broke,  a  stranger  too  to  the  locality,  and  directing 
his  movements  only  by  the  iniormation  of  others, 
which,  however  accurate  and  distinct,  could  scarcely  be 
followed,  even  if  without  risk  of  error,  at  least  without 
misgivings.  However,  could  he  master  this  point 
before  the  morning  he  was  comparatively  safe ;  he 
then  had  to  strike  into  the  solitary  mountains,  and  to 
retrace  his  steps  for  a  while  towards  Sicca  along  the 
road,  till  he  came  to  a  place  where  he  knew  that 
Christian  scouts  or  videttes  (as  they  may  be  called) 
were  always  stationed. 

This  being  his  plan,  and  there  being  no  way  of 
mendiug  it,  our  confessor  retired  into  the  cottage,  and 
devoted  the  intervening  hours  to  intercourse  with  that 
world  from  which  his  succour  must  come.  He  set 
himself  to  intercede  for  the  Holy  Catholic  Church 
throughout  the  world,  now  for  the  most  part  under 
persecution,  and  for  the  Eoman  empire,  not  yet  holy, 
which  was  the  instrument  of  the  evil  powers  against 
her.  He  had  to  pray  for  the  proconsulate,  for  Numi- 
dia,  Mauretania,  and  the  whole  of  Africa ;  for  the 
Christian  communities  throughout  it,  for  the  cessation 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CEIs^TURT.  163 

of  the  trial  then  present,  and  for  the  fortitude  and 
perseverance  of  all  who  were  tried.  He  had  to  pray 
for  l]is  ow^n  personal  friends,  his  peuitents,  converts, 
enemies ;  for  children,  catechumens,  neophytes ;  for 
those  who  were  approaching  the  Church,  for  those  who 
had  fallen  awa}",  or  were  falling  away  from  her ;  for  all 
heretics,  for  all  troublers  of  unity,  that  they  might  be 
reclaimed.  He  had  to  confess,  bewail,  and  deprecate 
the  many  sins  and  offences  which  he  knew  of,  fore- 
boded, or  saw  in  prospect  as  to  come.  Scarcely  had  he 
entered  on  his  charge  at  Carthage  four  years  before, 
when  he  had  had  to  denounce  one  portentous  scandal 
in  which  a  sacred  order  of  the  ministry  w^as  implicated. 
AVhat  internal  laxity  did  that  scandal  not  imply ! 
And  tnen  again  what  a  low  standard  of  religion,  what 
niggardly  faith,  and  what  worn-out,  used-up  sanctity 
in  the  community  at  large,  was  revealed  in  the  fact  of 
those  frequent  apostasies  of  iudividuals  which  then 
were  occurring !  He  prayed  fervently  that  both  from 
the  bright  pattern  of  martyrs  and  from  the  warning 
afforded  by  the  lapsed,  the  Christian  body  might  be 
edified  and  invigorated.  He  saw  with  great  anxiet}'- 
two  schisms  in  prospect,  when  the  persecution  should 
come  to  an  end,  one  from  the  perverseness  of  those 
who  were  too  rigid,  the  other  from  those  who  were 
too  indulgent  towards  the  fallen ;  and  in  propoi'tion 
to  his  gift  of  prescience  was  the  earnestness  of  his 
intercession  that  the  wounds  of  the  Church  might  be 
healed  with  the  least  possible  delay.  He  then  turned 
to  the  thought  of  his  own  correspondence  then  in  pro- 
gress with  the  Holy  Eoman  Church,  which  had  lately 
lost  its  bishop  by  martyrdom.  This  was  no  unusual 
event  with  the  see  of  Peter,  in  which  the  successors 
of  Peter  followed  Peter's  steps,  as  Peter  had  been 
bidden  to  follow  the  King  and  Exemplar  of  JNfartyrs. 
But  what  was  so  afflicting  was,  that  months  had 
passed,  full  five,  since  the  vacancj^  occurred,  and  it 
Lad  not  yet  been  supplied.  Then  he  thought  of  Pa- 
M  2 


164  CALLISTA 

Ijius,  who  made  the  vacancy,  and  who  had  already 
passed  through  tliat  trial  wliich  was  to  bring  to  so 
many  Christians  life  or  condemnation,  and  he  com- 
mended himself  to  his  prayers  against  the  hour  of  his 
own  combat.  He  thought  of  Fabius's  work,  and  went 
on  to  intercede  for  the  remnant  of  the  seven  apostles 
whom  that  Pope  had  sent  into  Gaul,  and  some  of  whom 
had  already  obtained  the  martyr's  crown.  He  prayed 
that  the  day  might  come,  when  not  the  cities  only  of  that 
fair  country,  but  its  rich  champaigns  and  sunny  slopes 
should  hear  the  voice  of  the  missionary.  He  prayed 
in  like  manner  for  Britain,  that  the  successful  work  of 
another  Pope,  St.  Eleutherius,  might  be  extended  even 
to  its  four  seas.  And  then  he  prayed  for  the  neighbour- 
ing island  on  the  west,  still  in  heathen  darkness,  and 
for  the  endless  expanse  of  Germany  on  the  east,  that 
there  too  the  one  saving  Name  and  glorious  Faith 
might  be  known  and  accepted. 

His  thoughts  then  travelled  back  to  Eome  and  Italy, 
and  to  the  martyrdoms  which  had  followed  that  of 
St.  Fabius.  Two  Persians  had  already  suffered  in  the 
imperial  city;  IMaximus  had  lost  his  life,  and  Felix 
had  been  iuiprisoned,  at  Nola.  Asia  Minor,  Syria, 
and  Egypt  had  already  afforded  victims  to  the  perse- 
cution, and  cried  aloud  to  all  Christians  for  their  most 
earnest  prayers  and  repeated  masses  in  behalf  of  those 
who  remained  under  the  trial.  Babylas,  bishop  of 
Antioch,  the  second  see  in  Christendom,  was  already 
martyred  in  that  city.  Here  again  Csecilius  had  a 
strong  call  on  him  for  intercession,  for  a  subtle  form  of 
freethinking  was  there  manifesting  itself,  the  issue  of 
which  was  as  uncertain  as  it  might  be  frightful.  The 
bishop  of  Alexandi'ia,  that  third  of  the  large  divisions 
or  patriarchates  of  the  Church,  the  great  Dionysius, 
the  pupil  of  Origen,  was  an  exile  from  his  see,  like 
himself.  The  messenger  who  brought  this  news  to 
Carthage  had  heard  at  Alexandria  a  report  from  Neo- 
C3Esarea,  that  Gregory,  another  pupil  of  Origen' s,  the 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     165 

apostle  of  Pontus,  had  also  been  obliged  to  conceal 
himself  from  the  persecution.  As  for  Origen  himself, 
the  aged,  laborious,  gifted,  zealous  teacher  of  his  age, 
he  was  just  then  engaged  in  answeriog  the  works  of 
an  Epicurean  called  Celsus,  and  on  him  too  the  per- 
secution was  likely  to  fall ;  and  Csecilius  prayed  ear- 
nestly that  so  great  a  soul  might  be  kept  from  such 
high  untrue  speculations  as  were  threatening  evil  at 
Antioch,  and  from  every  deceit  and  snare  which  might 
endanger  his  inheriting  that  bright  crown  which  ought 
to  be  his  portion  in  heaven.  Another  remarkable  re- 
port had  come,  viz.  that  some  young  men  of  Egypt  had 
retired  to  the  deserts  up  the  country  under  the  stress 
of  the  persecution, — Paul  was  the  name  of  one  of 
them, — and  that  the3''were  there  living  in  the  practice 
of  mortification  and  prayer  so  singular,  and  had  com- 
bats with  the  powers  of  darkness  and  visitations  from 
above  so  special,  as  to  open  quite  a  new  era  in  the 
spiritual  history  of  the  Church. 

And  then  his  thoughts  came  back  to  his  poor  Agel- 
lius,  and  all  those  hundred  private  matters  of  anxiety 
which  the  foes  of  the  Church,  occupied  only  with  her 
external  aspect,  little  suspected.  For  Agellius  he 
prayed,  and  for  his ;  for  the  strange  wayward  Juba, 
for  Jucundus,  for  Callista ;  ah!  that  CalJista  might  be 
brought  on  to  that  glorious  consummation  for  wdiich 
she  seemed  marked  out !  But  tlie  ways  of  the  Most 
High  are  not  as  our  ways,  and  those  who  to  us  seem 
nearest  are  often  furthest  from  Him ;  and  so  our 
holy  priest  left  the  whole  matter  in  the  hands  of  Him 
to  whom  he  prayed,  satisfied  that  he  had  done  his 
part  in  praying. 

This  was  the  course  of  thought  which  occupied  him 
for  many  hours,  after  he  had  closed  the  door,  as  we  have 
said,  upon  him,  and  knelt  down  before  the  cross. 
Not  merely  before  the  symbol  of  redemption  did  he 
kneel ;  for  he  opened  his  tunic  at  the  neck,  and  drew 
thence  a  small  golden  pyx  which  was  there  suspended. 
In  that  carefully  fastened  case  was   contained  the 


166  CALLISTA ; 

Holiest,  liisLord  and  his  God.  That  Everlasting  Pre- 
sence was  his  stay  and  guide  amid  his  weary  wander- 
ings, his  joy  and  consolation  amid  his  overpowering 
anxieties.  Behold  the  secret  of  his  sweet  serenity, 
and  his  clear  unclouded  determination.  He  placed  It 
upon  the  small  table  at  which  he  knelt,  and  was  soon 
absorbed  in  meditation  and  intercession. 


A  SKETCH  OF   THE  THIED  CENTUBY.     1G7 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

How  many  hours  passed  while  Cseciliiis  was  thus  em- 
ployed, he  did  not  know.  The  sun  was  declining, 
when  he  was  roused  by  a  noise  at  the  door.  He 
hastily  restored  the  sacred  treasure  to  its  hiding-place 
in  his  breast,  and  rose  up  from  his  knees.  The  door 
was  thrown  back,  and  a  female  form  presented  itself 
at  the  opening.  She  looked  in  at  the  priest,  and 
said,  "Then  Agellius  is  not  here." 

The  woman  was  young,  tall,  and  gracefid  in  person. 
She  was  clad  in  a  yellow  cotton  tunic,  reaching  to  her 
feet,  on  which  were  shoes.  The  clasps  at  her  shoulders, 
partly  visible  under  the  short  cloak  or  shawl  which 
was  thrown  over  them,  and  which  might,  if  necessary, 
be  drawn  over  her  head,  seemed  to  serve  the  purpose, 
not  only  of  fostening  her  dress,  but  of  providing  her 
with  sharp  prongs  or  minute  stilettos  for  her  defence, 
in  case  she  fell  in  Avith  ruffians  by  the  way ;  and  though 
the  expression  of  her  face  was  most  feminine,  there 
was  that  about  it  which  implied  she  could  use  them 
for  that  purpose  on  an  emergency.  That  face  was 
clear  in  complexion,  regular  in  outline ;  and  at  the 
present  time  pale,  whatever  might  be  its  ordinary 
tint.  Its  charm  was  a  noble  and  majestic  calm.  There 
is  the  calm  of  divine  peace  and  joy;  there  is  the  calm 
of  heartlessness ;  there  is  the  calm  of  reckless  despera- 
tion ;  there  is  the  calm  of  death.  None  of  these  was 
the  calm  which  breathed  from   the  features   of  the 


IGS  catj.ista: 

stranger  who  intruded  upon  the  solitude  of  Caeci- 
lius.  It  was  the  calm  of  Greek  sculpture  ;  it  imaged  a 
soul  nourished  upon  the  visions  of  genius,  and  sub- 
dued and  attuned  bj  the  power  of  a  strong  will. 
There  was  no  appearance  of  timidity  in  her  manner ; 
very  little  of  modesty.  The  evening  sun  gleamed 
across  her  amber  robe,  and  lit  it  up  till  it  glowed  like 
fire,  as  if  she  were  invested  in  the  marnagejlammeum, 
and  was  to  be  claimed  that  evening  as  the  bride  of  her 
own  bright  god  of  day. 

She  looked  at  Csecilius,  first  with  surprise,  then 
with  anxiety ;  and  her  words  were,  "  You,  I  fear,  are 
of  his  people.  If  so,  make  the  most  of  these  hours. 
The  foe  may  be  on  you  to-morrow  morning.  Fly 
while  you  can." 

"  If  I  am  a  Christian,"  answered  Csecilius,  "  what 
are  you  who  are  so  careful  of  ns  ?  Have  you  come 
all  the  way  from  Sicca  to  give  the  alarm  to  mere 
atheists  and  magic-mongers  ?  " 

"  Stranger,"  she  said,  "  if  you  had  seen  what  I  have 
seen,  what  1  have  heard  of,  to-day,  you  would  not 
wonder  at  my  wish  to  save  from  a  like  fate  the  vilest 
being  on  earth.  A  hideous  mob  is  rioting  in  the  city, 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  Christians ;  an  accident  may 
turn  it  in  the  direction  of  Agellius.  He  is  gone; 
where  is  he  ?  Murderous  outrages  have  already  been 
perpetrated ;  you  remain." 

"  She  who  is  so  tender  of  Christians,"  answered  the 
priest,  "  must  herself  have  some  sparks  of  the  Chris- 
tian flame  in  her  own  breast." 

Callista  sat  down  half  unconsciously  upon  the  bench 
or  stool  near  the  door ;  but  she  at  once  suddenly 
started  up  again,  and  said,  "  Away,  fly  !  perhaps  they 
are  coming;  where  is  he ?" 

"Fear  not,"  said  Csecilius;  "Agellius  has  been  con- 
veyed away  to  a  safe  hiding-place ;  for  me,  I  shall  be 
taken  care  of;  there  is  no  need  for  hurry ;  sit  down 
again.  But  you,"  he  continued,  "you  must  not  be 
found  here." 


A   SKETCH    or   THE    TIIIED    CENTUET.  169 

"  They  know  me^''  she  said ;  "  I  am  icell  known  here. 
I  work  for  the  temples.  I  have  nothing  to  fear.  I 
am  no  Christian ;"  and,  as  if  from  an  inexplicable  over- 
ruling influence,  she  sat  down  again. 

"Not  a  Christian  yet,  you  mean,"  answered  Cseci- 
lius. 

"A  person  must  be  born  a  Christian,  sir,"  she  re- 
plied, "  in  order  to  take  up  the  religion.  It  is  a  very 
beautiful  idea,  as  far  as  I  have  h'  ard  any  thing  about 
it ;  but  one  must  suck  it  in  with  one's  mother's  milk." 

"  If  so,  it  never  could  have  come  into  the  world," 
said  the  priest. 

She  paused  for  a  while.  "It  is  true,"  she  answered 
at  length,  "  but  a  new  religion  begins  by  appealing  to 
what  is  peculiar  in  the  minds  of  a  few.  The  doctrine, 
floating  on  the  winds,  finds  its  own ;  it  takes  posses- 
sion of  their  minds;  they  answer  its  call;  they  are 
brought  together  by  that  common  influence ;  they  are 
strong  in  each  other's  sympathy ;  they  create  and 
throw  around  them  an  external  form,  and  thus  they 
found  a  religion.  The  sons  are  brought  up  in  their 
fathers'  faith  ;  and  what  was  the  idea  of  a  few  becomes 
at  length  the  profession  of  a  race.  Such  is  Judaism  ; 
such  the  religion  of  Zoroaster,  or  of  the  Egyptians." 

"  Ton  will  find,"  said  the  priest,  "that  the  greater 
number  of  African  Christians  at  this  moment,  for  of 
them  I  speak  confidently,  are  converts  in  manhood, 
not  the  sons  of  Christians.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
there  be  those  who  have  left  the  faith,  and  gone  up  to 
the  capitol  to  sacrifice,  these  were  Christians  by  here- 
ditary profession.  Such  is  my  experience,  and  I  think 
the  case  is  the  same  elsewhere." 

She  seemed  to  be  speaking  more  for  the  sake  of 
getting  answers  than  of  objecting  arguments.  She 
paused  again,  and  thouglit ;  then  she  said,  "  Man- 
kind is  made  up  of  chisses  of  very  various  mental 
complexion,  as  distinct  from  each  other  as  the  colours 
which  meet  the  eye.     Eed  and  blue  are  incommensura- 


170  CALLISTA ; 

ble  :  and  in  like  manner,  a  Magian  never  can  become 
a  Greek,  or  a  Greek  a  Coelicolist.  They  do  but  make 
themselves  fools  when  they  attempt  it." 

"  Perhaps  the  most  deeply  convinced,  the  most  tran- 
quil-minded of  all  Christians,"  answered  C^ecilius, 
"  will  tell  you,  on  the  contrary,  that  there  was  a  time 
when  they  hated  Christianity,  and  despised  -and  ill- 
treated  its  professors." 

"  J  never  did  any  such  thing,"  cried  Callista,  "  since 
the  day  I  first  heard  of  it.  I  am  not  its  enemy,  but  I 
cannot  believe  in  it.  I  am  sure  I  never  could;  I 
never,  never  should  be  able." 

"  What  is  it  you  cannot  believe  ?  "  asked  the  priest. 

"It  seems  too  beautiful,"  she  said,  "to  be  anything 
else  than  a  dream.  It  is  a  thing  to  talk  about,  but 
when  you  come  near  its  professors  you  see  it  is  impos- 
sible. A  most  beautiful  imagination,  tliat  is  what  it  is. 
Most  beautiful  its  precepts,  as  far  as  I  have  heard  of 
them ;  so  beautiful,  that  in  idea  there  is  no  difliculty. 
The  mind  runs  along  with  them  as  if  it  could  accom- 
plish them  without  an  effort.  "Well,  its  maxims  are 
too  heaufifid  to  be  believed ;  and  then,  on  the  other 
hand,  its  dogmas  are  too  dismal,  too  shocking,  too 
odious  to  be  believed.     They  revolt  me." 

"  Such  as  what  ?  "  asked  Csecilius. 

" Such  as  this,"  answered  Callista.  "Nothing  will 
ever  make  me  believe  that  all  my  people  have  gone 
and  will  go  to  an  eternal  Tartarus." 

"  Had  we  not  better  confine  ourselves  to  something 
more  specific,  more  tangible  ?  "  asked  Csecilius  gravely. 
"  I  suppose  if  one  individual  may  have  that  terrible 
lot,  another  may,  both  may,  many  may.  Suppose  I 
understand  you  to  say  that  you  never  will  believe  that 
you  will  go  to  an  eternal  Tartarus." 

Callista  gave  a  slight  start,  and  showed  some  uneasi- 
ness or  displeasure. 

"  Is  it  not  likely,"  continued  he,  "  that  you  are 
better  able  to  speak  of  yourself,  and  to  form  a  judg- 


A   SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CEJfTURT.  I7l 

ment  about  yourself,  than  about  others  ?  Perhaps  if  you 
could  first  speak  confidently  about  yourself,  you  would 
be  in  a  better  position  to  speak  about  others  also." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  she  said  in  a  calm  tone,  "  that  my 
place,  after  tliis  life,  is  an  everlasting  Tartarus  ?  " 

"  Are  you  happy  ?  "  he  asked  in  turn. 

She  paused,  looked  down,  and  in  a  deep  clear  voice 
said,  "  No."     There  was  a  silence. 

The  priest  began  again :  "  Perhaps  you  have  been 
growing  in  unhappiness  for  years  ;  is  it  so  ?  you  assent. 
You  have  a  heavy  burden  at  your  heart,  you  don't  well 
know  what.  And  the  chance  is,  that  you  will  grow 
in  unhappiness  for  the  next  ten  years  to  come.  You 
will  be  more  and  more  unhappy  tlie  longer  you  live. 
Did  you  live  till  you  were  an  old  woman,  you  would 
not  know  how  to  bear  your  existence." 

Callista  cried  out  as  if  in  bodily  pain,  "  It  is  true, 
sir,  whoever  told  you.  But  how  can  you  have  the 
heart  to  say  it,  to  insult  and  mock  me !  " 

"  God  forbid  !  "  exclaimed  Csecilius,  "  but  let  me  go 
on.  Listen,  my  child.  Be  brave,  and  dare  to  look 
at  things  as  they  are.  Every  day  adds  to  your  burden. 
This  is  a  law  of  your  present  being,  somewhat  more 
certain  than  that  which  you  just  now  so  confidently 
asserted,  the  impossibility  of  your  believing  in  that  law. 
You  cannot  refuse  to  accept  what  is  not  an  opinion, 
but  a  fact.  I  say  this  burden  which  I  speak  of  is  not 
simply  a  dogma  of  our  creed,  it  is  an  undeniable  fact  of 
nature.  You  cannot  change  it  by  wishing ;  if  you  were 
to  live  on  earth  two  hundred  years,  it  would  not  be 
reversed,  it  would  be  more  and  more  true.  At  the 
end  of  two  hundred  years  you  would  be  too  miserable 
even  for  your  worst  enemy  to  rejoice  in  it." 

Csecilius  spoke,  as  if  half  in  soliloquy  or  meditation, 
though  he  was  looking  towards  Callista.  The  contrast 
between  them  was  singular  :  he  thus  abstracted ;  she 
too,  utterly  forgetful  of  self,  but  absorbed  in  him,  and 
showing  it  by  her  e^ger  eyes,  her  hushed  breath,  her 


172  CALLISTA ; 

anxious  attitude.  At  last  she  said  impatiently, "  Father, 
you  are  speaking  to  yourself  ;  you  despise  me." 

The  priest  looked  straight  at  her  ^Yith  an  open,  un- 
troubled smile,  and  said,  "  Callista,  do  not  doubt  me, 
my  poor  child  ;  you  are  in  my  heart.  I  was  praying 
for  you  shortly  before  you  appeared.  No ;  but,  in  so 
serious  a  matter,  as  attempting  to  save  a  soul,  I  like  to 
speak  to  you  in  my  Lord's  sight.  I  am  speaking  to 
you,  indeed  I  am,  my  child  ;  but  I  am  also  pleading 
with  you  in  His  behalf,  and  before  His  throne." 

His  voice  trembled  as  he  spoke,  but  he  soon  re- 
covered himself.  "  Suffer  me,"  he  said.  "I  was  say- 
ing that  if  you  lived  five  hundred  years  on  earth,  you 
would  but  have  a  heavier  load  on  you  as  time  went 
on.  But  you  will  not  live,  you  will  die.  Perhaps  you 
will  tell  me  you  will  then  cease  to  be.  I  don't  believe 
you  think  so.  I  may  take  for  granted  that  you  think 
with  me,  and  with  the  multitude  of  men,  that  you  will 
still  live,  that  you  will  still  be  you.  You  will  still  be 
the  same  being,  but  deprived  of  those  outward  stays 
and  reliefs  and  solaces,  which,  such  as  they  are,  you 
now  enjoy.  You  will  be  yo.irself,  shut  up  in  yourself. 
I  have  heard  that  people  go  mad  at  length,  when 
placed  in  solitary  confinement.  If  then,  on  passing 
hence,  you  are  cut  off"  from  what  you  had  here,  and 
have  only  the  company  of  yourself,  I  tliink  your  burden 
will  be,  so  far,  greater,  not  less  than  it  is  now. 

"  Suppose,  for  instance,  you  had  still  your  love  of 
conversing,  and  could  not  converse  ;  your  love  of  the 
poets  of  your  race,  and  no  means  of  recalling  them ; 
your  love  of  music,  and  no  instrument  to  play  upon ; 
your  love  of  knowledge,  and  nothing  to  learn;  your 
desire  of  sympathy,  and  no  one  to  love;  would  not 
that  be  still  greater  misery  ? 

"Let  me  proceed  a  step  further:  supposing  you 
were  among  those  you  actually  did  «o^  love  ;  supposing 
you  did  not  like  them,  nor  their  occupations,  and  could 
not  understand  their  aims ;  suppose  there  be,  as  Chris- 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     173 

tians  say,  one  Almighty  God,  and  you  did  not  like  Him, 
and  had  not  taste  for  thinking  of  Him,  and  no  interest 
in  what  He  was  and  what  He  did  ;  and  supposing  you 
found  that  there  was  nothing  else  any  w^here  but  He, 
whom  you  did  not  love  and  whom  you  wished  away ; 
would  you  not  be  still  more  wretched  ? 

"  And  if  this  went  on  for  ever,  w^ould  you  not  be  in 
great  inexpressible  pain  for  ever  ? 

"  Assuming  then,  first,  that  the  soul  ever  needs  ex- 
ternal objects  to  rest  upon  ;  next,  that  it  has  no  pro- 
spect of  any  such  when  it  leaves  this  visible  scene; 
and  thirdly,  tliat  the  hunger  and  thirst,  the  gnawing 
of  the  heart,  where  it  occurs,  is  as  keen  and  piercing  as 
a  flame ;  it  will  follow  there  is  nothing  irrational  in 
the  notion  of  an  eternal  Tartarus." 

"  I  cannot  answer  you,  sir,"  said  Callista,  "  but  I 
do  not  believe  the  dogma  on  that  account  a  whit  the 
more.  My  mind  revolts  from  the  notion.  There  must 
be  some  way  out  of  it." 

"If,  on  the  other  hand,"  continued  Csecilius,  not 
noticing  her  interruption,  "  if  all  your  thoughts  go  one 
way ;  if  you  have  needs,  desires,  aims,  aspirations,  all 
of  which  demand  an  Object,  and  imply,  by  their  very 
existence,  that  such  an  Object  does  exist  also  ;  and  if 
nothing  here  does  satisfy  them,  and  if  there  be  a  mes- 
sage which  professes  to  come  from  that  Object,  of  whom 
you  already  have  the  presentiment,  and  to  teach  you 
about  Him,  and  to  bring  the  remedy  you  crave  ;  and  if 
those  who  try  that  remedy  say  with  one  voice  that 
the  remedy  answers ;  are  you  not  bound,  Callista,  at 
least  to  look  that  way,  to  inquire  into  what  you  hear 
about  it,  and  to  ask  for  His  help,  if  He  be,  to  enable 
you  to  believe  in  Him  ?  " 

"This  is  what  a  slave  of  mine  used  to  say,"  cried 
Callista  abruptly ;  "...  and  another,  Agellius,  hinted 

the  same  thing "What  is  your  remedy,  what 

your  Object,  what  your  Lo\'e,  O  Christian  teacher  ? 
Why  are  you  all  so  mysterious,  so  reserved  in  your 
communications  ?  " 


174  CALLISTA ; 

Csecilius  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  seemed  at  a 
loss  for  an  answer.  At  length  he  said,  "  Every  man  is 
in  that  state  which  jou  confess  of  yourself.  \Ve  have 
no  love  for  Him  who  alone  lasts.  AYe  love  those 
things  which  do  not  last,  but  come  to  an  end.  Things 
being  thus.  He  whom  we  ought  to  love  has  determined 
to  win  us  back  to  Him.  With  this  object  He  has 
come  into  His  own  world,  in  the  form  of  one  of  us 
men.  And  in  that  human  form  He  opens  His  arms 
and  W003  us  to  return  to  Him,  our  Maker.  This  is 
our  Worship,  this  is  our  Love,  Callista." 

"  You  talk  as  Chione,"  Callista  answered  ;  "  only  that 
she  felt,  and  you  teach.  She  could  not  speak  of  her 
Master  without  blushing  for  joy.  .  .  .  And  Agellius, 
when  he  said  one  word  about  his  Master,  he  too 
began  to  blush " 

It  was  plain  that  the  priest  could  hardly  command  his 
feelings,  and  they  sat  for  a  short  while  in  silence.  Then 
Callista  began,  as  if  musing  on  what  she  had  heard. 

"  A  loved  One,"  she  said,  "yet  ideal ;  a  passion  so 
potent,  so  fresh,  so  innocent,  so  absorbing,  so  expul- 
sive of  other  loves,  so  enduring,  yet  of  One  never 
beheld  ; — mysterious  !  It  is  our  own  notion  of  the  First 
and  Only  Fair,  yet  embodied  in  a  substance,  yet  dis- 
solving again  into  a  sort  of  imagination.  ...  It  is 
beyond  me." 

"There  is  but  one  Lover  of  souls,"  cried  Caecilius, 
"  and  He  loves  each  one  of  us,  as  though  there  were  no 
one  else  to  love.  He  died  for  each  one  of  us,  as  if 
there  were  no  one  else  to  die  for.  He  died  on  the 
shameful  cross.  '  Amor  mens  crucifixus  est  \'  The 
love  which  He  inspires  lasts,  for  it  is  the  love  of  the 
Unchangeable.  •  It  satisfies,  for  He  is  inexhaustible. 
The  nearer  we  draw  to  Him,  the  more  triumphantly 
does  He  enter  into  us ;  the  longer  He  dwells  in  us, 
"the  more  intimately  have  we  possession  of  Him.  It  is 
an  espousal  for  eternity.  This  is  why  it  is  so  easy  for 
us  to  die  for  our  faith,  at  which  the  world  marvels." 
^  "  My  Love  is  crucified." 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    TnillD    CENTURY.  175 

Presently  lie  said,  "  Why  will  not  you  approach 
Him  ?  why  will  not  you  leave  the  creature  for  the 
Creator  F ' ' 

Callista  seldom  lost  her  self-possession ;  for  a  mo- 
ment she  lost  it  now;  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes. 
"  Impossible !  "  she  said,  "  what,  I  ?  you  do  not  know 
me,  father!"  She  paused,  and  then  resumed  in  a 
different  tone,  "  No  !  my  lot  is  one  way,  yours  an- 
other. I  am  a  child  of  Grreece,  and  have  no  happiness 
than  that,  such  as  it  is,  which  my  own  bright  laud,  my 
own  glorious  race,  give  me.  I  may  well  be  content, 
I  may  well  be  resigned,  I  may  well  be  proud,  if  I 
possess  that  happiness.  I  must  live  and  die  where 
I  have  been  born.  I  am  a  tree  which  will  not 
bear  transplanting.  The  Assyrians,  the  Jews,  the 
Egyptians,  have  their  own  mystical  teaching.  They 
follow  their  happiness  in  their  own  way ;  mine  is  a 
different  one.  The  pride  of  mind,  the  revel  of  the 
intellect,  the  voice  and  eyes  of  genius,  and  the  fond 
beating  heart,  I  cannot  do  without  them.  I  cannot 
do  without  what  you.  Christian,  call  sin.  Let  me 
alone ;  such  as  nature  made  me  I  will  be.  I  cannot 
change." 

The  change  in  her  manner  quite  overcame  Csecilius, 
yet,  while  the  disappointment  thrilled  through  him,  he 
felt  a  most  strange  sympathy  for  the  poor  lost  girl, 
and  his  reply  was  full  of  emotion.  "Am  I  a  Jew  ?  " 
he  exclaimed  ;  "  am  /  an  Egyptian  ?  or  an  Assyrian  ? 
Have  J  from  my  youth  believed  and  possessed  what 
now  is  my  Life,  my  Hope,  and  my  Love  ?  Child,  icliat 
was  once  my  life  ?  Am  not  J  too  a  brand  plucked  out 
of  the  lire  ?  Do  /deserve  any  thing  but  evil  ?  AVas 
it  not  the  Power,  the  Mighty  Power  of  the  only 
Strong,  the  only  Merciful,  the  grace  of  Emmanuel, 
which  has  changed  and  won  me  r  If  He  can  change 
me,  an  old  man,  could  he  not  change  a  child  like  you  ? 
I,  a  proud,  stern  Eoman  ;  I,  a  lover  of  pleasure,  a  man 
of  letters,  of  political  station,  with  formed  habits,  and 
long  associations,  and  complicated  relations ;  was  it  1 


176  CALLISTA ; 

who  wrought  this  great  change  in  me,  who  gained  for 
myself  the  power  of  hating  what  I  once  loved,  of  un- 
learning \Yhat  1  once  knew,  nay,  of  even  forgetting  what 
once  I  was  ?  Who  has  made  you  and  me  to  differ, 
but  He  who  can,  when  He  will,  make  us  to  agree? 
It  is  His  same  Omnipotence  who  will  transform  you^  if 
you  will  but  come  to  be  transformed." 

A  reaction  had  come  over  the  proud  and  sensitive 
mind  of  the  Glreek  girl.  "  So  after  all,  priest,"  she 
said,  "  you  are  but  a  man  like  others ;  a  frail  guilty 
person  like  myself.  I  can  find  plenty  of  persons  who 
do  as  I  do  ;  I  want  some  one  who  does  not ;  I  want 
some  one  to  worship.  I  thought  there  was  something 
in  you  special  and  extraordinary.  There  was  a  gen- 
tleness and  tenderness  mingled  with  your  strength 
which  was  new  to  me.  I  said.  Here  is  at  last  a  god. 
My  own  gods  are  earthly,  sensual ;  I  have  no  respect 
for  them,  no  faith  in  them.  But  there  is  nothing 
better  anywhere  else.  .  .  .  Alas !  .  .  .  "  She  started  up, 
and  said  with  vehemence,  "  I  thought  you  sinless  ;  you 
confess  to  crime.  .  .  .  Ah  !  how  do  I  know  ?  "  she  con- 
tinued ^\  ith  a  shudder,  "  that  you  are  better  than 
those  base  hypocrites,  priests  of  Isis  or  Mithras,  whose 
lustrations,  initiations,  new  birth,  white  robes,  and 
laurel  crowns,  are  but  the  instrument  and  cloke  of 
their  intense  depravity  ?  "  And  slie  felt  for  the  clasp 
upon  her  shoulder. 

Here  her  speech  was  interrupted  by  a  hoarse  sound, 
borne  upon  the  wind  as  of  many  voices  blended  into 
one  and  softened  by  the  distance,  but  which,  under 
the  circumstances,  neither  of  the  parties  to  the  above 
conversatiou  had  any  difBculty  in  assigning  to  its  real 
cause.  "  Dear  father,"  she  said,  "  the  enemy  is  upon 
you." 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     177 


CHAPTER  XX, 

Theee  was  no  room  for  doubt  or  for  delay.  "  What 
is  to  become  of  you,  Callista?"  he  said;  "they  will 
tear  you  to  pieces." 

"  Fear  nothing  for  me,  father,"  she  answered,  "  I 
am  one  of  them.  They  know  me.  Alas,  I  am  no 
Christian !  I  have  not  abjured  their  rites ;  but  you, 
lose  not  a  moment." 

"  They  are  still  at  some  distance,"  he  said,  "  though 
the  wind  gives  us  merciful  warning  of  their  coming." 
He  looked  about  the  room,  and  took  up  the  books  of 
Holy  Scripture  which  were  on  the  shelf  "  There  is 
nothing  else,"  he  said, "  of  special  value  here.  Agellius 
could  not  take  them.  Here,  my  child,  I  am  going  to 
show  you  a  great  confidence.  To  few  persons,  not 
Christians,  would  I  show  it.  Take  this  blessed  parch- 
ment ;  it  contains  the  earthly  history  of  our  Divine 
Master.  Here  you  will  see  whom  we  Christians  love. 
Eead  it ;  keep  it  safely ;  surrender  it,  when  you  have 
the  opportunity,  into  Christian  keeping.  My  mind 
tells  me  I  am  not  wrong  in  lending  it  to  you."  He 
handed  to  her  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  while  he  put 
the  other  two  volumes  into  the  folds  of  his  own  tunic. 

"One  word  more,"  she  said;  "your  name,  should 
I  want  you." 

He  took  up  a  piece  of  chalk  from  the  shelf,  and 
wrote  upon  the  wall  in  distinct  characters, 

"  Thascius  Caecilius  Cyprianus,  Bishop  of  Carthage." 
Hardly  had    she  read  the  inscription,   when   the 


178  CALLISTA ; 

voices  of  several  meu  were  heard  iu  the  very  neigli- 
bourhood  of  the  cottage  ;  and  hopiug  to  effect  a  diver- 
sion in  fiivour  of  Cfecilius,  and  being  at  once  unsus- 
picious of  dauger  to  herself,  and  careless  of  her  life,  she 
ran  quickly  forward  to  ineet  them.  Csecilius  ought  to 
liave  taken  to  flight  without  a  moment's  delay,  but  a 
last  sacred  duty  detained  him.  He  knelt  down  and  took 
the  pyx  from  liis  bosom.  He  had  eaten  nothing  that 
day ;  but  even  if  otherwise,  it  was  a  crisis  which 
allowed  him  to  consume  the  sacred  species  without 
fasting.  He  hastily  opened  the  golden  case,  adored 
the  blessed  sacrament,  and  consumed  it,  purifying  its 
receptacle,  and  restoring  it  to  its  hiding-place.  Then 
he  rose  at  once,  and  left  the  cottage. 

He  looked  about ;  Callista  was  no  where  to  be  seen. 
She  was  gone  ;  so  much  was  certain,  no  enemy  was  in 
sight :  it  only  remained  for  him  to  make  off  too.  In 
the  confusion  he  turned  in  the  wrong  direction ;  in- 
stead of  making  ofii"  at  the  back  of  the  cottage  from 
which  the  voices  had  scared  him,  he  ran  across  the 
garden  into  the  hollow  way.  It  was  all  over  with  him 
in  an  instant ;  he  fell  at  once  into  the  hands  of  the 
vaiiguard  of  the  mob. 

Many  mouths  were  opened  upon  him  all  at  once. 
"  The  sorcerer !  "  cried  one  ;  "  tear  him  to  shreds ;  we'll 
teach  him  to  brew  his  spells  against  the  city.'*  "  Grive 
us  back  our  grapes  and  corn,"  said  a  second.  "  Have 
a  guard,"  said  a  third  ;  "  he  can  turn  you  into  swine 
or  asses,  while  there  is  breath  in  him."  "  Then  be 
the  quicker  with  him,"  said  a  fourth,  who  was  lifting 
up  a  crowbar  to  discharge  upon  his  head.  "Hold  !  " 
said  a  tall  swarthy  youth,  Avho  had  already  warded  off 
several  blows  from  him,  "  hold,  will  you  ?  don't  you 
see,  if  you  kill  him  he  can't  undo  the  spell.  Make 
him  first  reverse  it  all ;  make  him  take  the  curse  off  us. 
Bring  him  along  ;  take  him  to  Astarte,  Hercules,  or 
old  Saturn.  We'll  broil  him  on  a  gridiron  till  he 
turns  all  these  canes  into  vines,  and  makes  olive 
berries  of  the  pebbles,  and  turns  the  dust  of  the  earth 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTU  ET.     179 

into  fine  flour  for  our  eating-.  When  he  has  done  all 
this,  he  shall  dance  a  jig  with  a  wild  cow,  and  sit  down 
to  supper  with  an  hyena." 

A  loud  scream  of  exultation  broke  forth  from  the 
drunken  and  frantic  multitude.  "  Along  with  hira  ! " 
continued  the  same  speaker  in  a  jeering  tone.  "  Here, 
put  him  on  the  ass,  and  tie  his  hands  behind  his  back. 
He  shall  go  back  in  triumph  to  the  city  which  he  loves. 
Mind  and  don't  touch  him  before  the  time.  If  you 
kill  liim,  you'll  never  get  the  curse  off.  Come  here, 
you  priests  of  Cybele,"  he  added,  "and  be  his  body- 
guard." And  he  continued  to  keep  a  vigilant  eye  and 
hand  over  the  old  man,  in  spite  of  them. 

The  ass,  though  naturally  a  good-tempered  beast,  had 
been  most  sadly  tried  through  the  day.  •  He  had  been 
fed,  indeed,  out  of  mockery,  as  being  the  Christians' 
god  ;  but  he  did  not  understand  the  shouts  and  caprices 
of  the  crowd,  and  he  only  waited  for  an  opportunity  to 
sbow  that  he  by  no  means  acquiesced  in  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  day.  And  now  the  difficulty  was  to  move 
at  all.  The  people  kept  crowding  up  the  hollow  road, 
and  blocked  the  passage  ;  and  though  the  greater  part  of 
the  rioters  had  either  been  left  behind  exhausted  in  Sicca 
itself,  or  had  poured  over  the  fields  on  each  side  of 
Agellius's  cottage,  or  gone  right  over  the  hill  down  into 
the  valley  beyond,  yet  still  it  was  some  time  before  the 
ass  could  move  a  step,  and  a  time  of  nervous  suspense  it 
was  both  to  Ca^cilius  and  the  youth  who  befriended 
him.  At  length  w^hat  remained  of  the  procession  was 
persuaded  to  turn  about  and  make  for  Sicca,  but  in  a 
reversed  order.  It  could  not  be  brought  round  in  so 
confined  a  space,  so  its  rear  went  first,  and  the  ass 
and  its  burden  came  last.  As  they  descended  the  hill 
back  again,  Csecilius,  who  was  mounted  upon  the  linen 
and  silk  which  had  adorned  the  Dea  Syra  before  the 
Tertullianist  had  destroyed  the  idol,  saw  before  him 
the  whole  line  of  march.  In  front  were  flaunted  the 
dreadful  emblems  of  idolatrv,  so  far  as  their  bearers 
n2 


180  CALLTSTA ; 

were  able  still  to  raise  tliem.  Drunken  women,  ragged 
boys  mounted  on  men's  shoulders,  ruffians  and  bullies, 
savage-looking  Getulians,  half-human  monsters  from 
the  Atlas,  monkeys  and  curs  jabbering  and  howling, 
mummers,  bacchanals,  satyrs,  and  gesticulators,  formed 
the  staple  of  the  procession.  Midway  between  the 
hill  which  he  was  descending  and  the  city  lay  the 
ravine,  of  which  we  have  several  times  spoken,  widen- 
ing out  into  the  plain  or  Campus  Martins  which 
reached  round  to  the  steep  cliffs  on  the  north.  The 
bridle-path,  along  which  he  was  moving,  crossed  it  just 
where  it  was  opening  and  became  level,  so  as  to  present 
no  abrupt  descent  and  ascent  at  the  place  where  the 
path  was  lowest.  On  the  left  every  vestige  of  it  soon 
ceased,  and  a  free  passage  extended  to  the  plain. 

The  youth  Avho  had  placed  C?ecilius  on  the  ass,  still 
kept  close  to  him,  and  sung  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice,  in 
imitation  of  the  rest, 

*'  Sporting  and  snorting  in  shades  of  the  night, 
His  ears  pricking  up,  and  his  hoofs  striking  hght, 
And  his  tail  whisking  round  in  the  speed  of  his  flight." 

"  Old  man,"  he  continued  to  Csecilius  in  a  low 
voice,  and  in  Latin,  "  your  curse  has  not  worked  on 
me  yet." 

"  My  son,"  answered  the  priest,  "you  are  granted 
o^ie  day  more  for  repentance." 

"  Lucky  for  you,  as  well  as  for  me,"  was  the  reply: 
and  he  continued  his  song. 

"  Gurta,  the  witch,  was  out  with  the  rest; 
Though  as  lame  as  a  gull,  by  his  highness  possessed, 
She  shouldered  her  crutch,  and  danced  vdth  the  best. 

"  She  stamped  and  she  twirled  in  the  shade  of  the  yew, 
Till  her  gossips  and  chums  of  the  city  danced  too ; 
They  never  are  slack  when  there's  mischief  to  do. 

"  She  danced  and  she  coaxed,  but  he  was  no  fool ; 
He'd  be  his  own  master,  he'd  not  be  her  tool ; 
Not  the  little  black  moor  should  send  him  to  school." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     181 

He  then  turned  to  C?ecilius,  and  whispered,  "  You 
see,  old  father,  that  others,  besides  Christians,  can 
forgive  and  forget.  Henceforth  call  me  generous 
Juba."     And  he  tossed  his  head. 

Bj  this  time  they  had  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill, 
and  the  deep  shadows  which  filled  the  hollow  showed 
that  the  sun  was  rapidly  sinking  in  the  west.  Sud- 
denly, as  they  were  crossing  the  bottom  as  it  opened 
into  the  plain,  Juba  seized  and  broke  the  thong  which 
bound  Ciecilius's  arms,  and  bestowing  a  tremendous 
cut  with  it  upon  tlie  side  of  the  ass,  sent  him  forward 
upon  the  plain  at  his  full  speed.  The  asses  of  Africa 
can  do  more  on  an  occasion  of  this  kind  than  our 
own.  C?0cilius  for  the  moment  lost  his  seat;  but, 
instantly  recovering  it,  took  care  to  keep  the  animal 
from  flagging  ;  and  the  cries  of  the  mob,  and  the  bowl- 
ings of  the  priests  of  Cybele  co-operated  in  the  task. 
At  length  the  gloom,  increasing  every  minute,  hid  him 
from  their  view ;  and  even  in  daylight  his  recapture 
would  have  been  a  difficult  matter  for  a  wearied-out,  fa- 
mished, and  intoxicated  rabble.  Before  he  well  had  time 
to  return  thanks  for  this  unexpected  turn  of  events, 
C?eciliu3  was  out  of  pursuit,  and  was  ambling  at  a  pace 
more  suitable  to  the  habits  of  the  beast  of  burden  that 
carried  him,  over  an  expanse  of  plain  which  would 
have  been  a  formidable  night-march  to  a  fasting 
man. 

AYe  must  not  conclude  the  day  without  relating 
what  was  its  issue  to  the  persecutors,  as  well  as  to 
their  intended  victim.  It  is  almost  a  proverb  that 
punishment  is  slow  in  overtaking  crime;  but  the 
present  instance  was  an  exception  to  the  rule.  "While 
the  exiled  bishop  of  Carthage  escaped,  the  crowd,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  caught  in  the  trap  which  had 
been  laid  for  them.  We  have  already  said  it  was 
a  ruse  on  the  part  of  the  governing  authorities  of  the 
place  to  get  the  rioters  out  of  the  city,  that  they  migh; 
at  once  be  relieved  of  them,  and  then  deal  with  theni 


182  CALLISTA ; 

just  as  they  might  think  fit.  AVhen  the  mob  was 
once  outside  the  walls,  thej  might  be  refused  re- 
admittance,  and  put  down  with  a  strong  hand.  The 
Eoman  garrison,  who,  powerless  to  quell  the  tumult  in 
the  narrow  and  winding  streets  and  multiplied  alleys 
of  tlie  city,  had  been  the  authors  of  the  manoeuvre, 
now  took  on  themselves  the  stern  completion  of  it,  and 
determined  to  do  so  in  the  sternest  way.  Not  a  single 
head  of  all  those  who  poured  out  in  the  afternoon 
should  return  at  night.  It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that 
the  soldiers  had  any  tenderness  for  the  Christians,  but 
they  abominated  and  despised  the  rabble  of  the  town. 
They  were  indignant  at  their  rising,  thought  it  a  per- 
sonal insult  to  themselves,  and  resolved  they  should 
never  do  so  again.  The  gates  were  commonly  in  the 
custody  of  the  city  guard,  but  the  Porta  Septimiana, 
by  which  the  miob  passed  out,  was  on  this  occasion 
claimed  by  the  Eomans.  It  was  most  suitably  cir- 
cumstanced for  the  use  they  intended  to  make  of  it. 
Immediately  outside  of  it  was  a  large  court  of  the  same 
level  as  the  ground  inside,  bordered  on  the  right  and 
left  by  substantial  walls,  which  after  a  time  were 
drawn  to  meet  each  other,  and  contracted  the  space 
to  the  usual  breadth  of  a  road.  The  walls  continued 
to  run  along  this  road  for  some  distance,  till  they 
joined  the  way  which  led  to  the  Campus  Martins,  and 
from  this  point  the  ground  was  open,  till  it  reached 
the  head  of  the  ravine.  The  soldiers  drew  up  at  the 
gates,  and  as  the  worn-out  and  disappointed,  brutalized 
and  half-idiotic  multitudes  returned  towards  it  from 
the  country,  those  who  were  behind  pushed  on  between 
the  border  walls  those  who  were  in  front,  and,  while  they 
jammed  together  their  ranks,  also  made  escape  impos- 
sible. It  was  now  that  the  Eoman  soldiers  began  their 
barbarous,  not  to  say  cowardly,  assault  upon  them.  With 
heavy  maces,  with  the  pike,  with  iron  gauntlets,  with 
stones  and  bricks,  with  clubs,  with  the  scourge,  with  the 
sword,  with  the  helmet,  with  whatever  came  to  hand, 
they  commenced  the  massacre  of  that  large  concourse 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     183 

of  human  beings,  who  did  not  offer  one  blow  in  return. 
They  slaughtered  them  like  sheep ;  they  trampled 
them  down ;  they  threw  the  bodies  of  the  wounded 
over  the  wall.  Attempting  to  run  back,  numbers  of 
the  poor  wretches  came  into  conflict  with  the  ranks 
behind  them,  and  an  additional  scene  of  confusion  and 
overthrow  took  place ;  numbers  straggled  over  to  the 
opeji  country  or  woods,  and  perished,  cither  from  the 
weather,  or  from  hunger,  or  even  from  the  wild  beasts. 
Others,  weakened  by  excess  and  famine,  fell  a  prey  to 
the  pestilence  that  was  raging.  After  some  days 
a  remnant  of  them  was  allowed  silently  and  timidly 
to  steal  back  into  the  city  as  best  they  could.  It 
was  a  long  day  before  the  Plebs  Siccensis  ventured 
to  have  any  opinion  of  its  own  upon  the  subject  of 
Christianity,,  or  any  other  political,  social,  or  eccle 
siastical  topic  whatever. 


184  CALLISTA , 


CHAPTEH  XXI. 

"When  Jucundus  rose  next  morning,  and  heard  the 
news,  he  considered  it  to  be  more  satisfactory  than  he 
could  have  supposed  possible.  He  was  a  zealous 
imperialist,  and  a  lover  of  tranquillity,  a  despiser  of  the 
natives,  and  a  hater  of  the  Christians.  The  Christians 
had  suffered  enough  to  vindicate  the  Koman  name,  to 
deter  those  who  were  playing  at  Christianity,  and  to 
show  that  tbe  people  of  Sicca  had  their  eyes  about 
them.  And  the  mob  had  received  a  severe  lesson 
too ;  and  the  cause  of  public  order  had  triumphed, 
and  civic  peace  was  re-established.  His  anxiety, 
too,  about  AgelHus  had  terminated,  or  was  terminating. 
He  had  privately  denounced  him  to  the  government, 
come  to  an  understanding  with  tlie  military  authorities, 
and  obtained  the  custody  of  him.  He  had  met  him  at 
the  very  door  to  which  the  boy  Firmius  brought  him, 
with  an  apparitor  of  the  military  staff  (or  what  an- 
swered to  it),  and  had  clapped  him  into  prison  in  an 
underground  cellar  in  which  he  kept  damaged  images, 
and  those  which  had  gone  out  of  fashion,  and  were 
otherwise  unsaleable.  He  was  not  at  all  sorry,  by 
some  suffering,  and  by  some  fright,  to  aid  the  more 
potent  incantation  which  Callista  was  singing  in  his 
ears.  He  did  not,  however,  at  all  forget  Juba's  hint, 
and  was  careful  not  to  overdo  the  raek-and-gridiron- 
dodge,  if  we  may  so  designate  it;  yet  he  thought  just 
a  flavour  or  a  thou";ht  of  the  inconveniences  which 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     185 

the  profession  of  Christianity  involved  might  be  a 
salutary  reflection  in  the  midst  of  the  persuasives 
which  the  voice  and  eyes  of  Callista  kindled  in  his 
heart.  There  was  nothing  glorious  or  heroic  in  being 
confined  in  a  lumber  cellar,  no  one  knowing  any  thing 
about  it ;  and  he  did  not  mean  to  keep  him  there  for 
ever. 

As  the  next  day  wore  on  towards  evening  rumour 
brought  a  piece  of  news  which  he  was  at  first  utterly  un- 
able to  credit,  and  for  the  moment  seemed  likely  to  spoil 
the  appetite  which  promised  so  well  for  his  evening 
repast.  He  could  hardly  believe  his  ears  w^henhe 
was  told  that  Callista  was  in  arrest  on  a. charge  of 
Christianity,  and  at  first  it  made  him  look  as  black  as 
some  of  those  Egyptian  gods  which  he  had  on  one  shelf 
of  his  shop.  However,  he  rallied,  and  was  very  much 
amused  at  the  report.  The  imprisonment  indeed  was 
a  fact,  account  for  it  as  one  could ;  but  who  coitld 
account  for  it  ?  "  Yarium  et  mutabile  ^ ;"  who  could 
answer  for  the  whims  and  fancies  of  womankind  ?  If 
she  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  owl  of  Minerva,  or  cut 
off  her  auburn  tresses,  or  turned  rope-dancer,  there 
might  have  been  some  shrugging  of  shoulders,  but  no 
one  would  have  tried  to  analyze  the  motive ;  but  so 
much  his  profound  sagacity  enabled  him  to  see,  that,  if 
there  was  one  thing  more  than  another  likely  to  sicken 
Agellius  of  Christianity,  it  was  to  find  one  who  was 
so  precious  to  him  suffering  from  the  suspicion  of  it. 
It  was  bad  enough  to  have  suffered  oneself  in  such  a 
cause ;  still  he  could  conceive,  he  was  large-minded 
enough  to  grant,  that  Agellius  might  have  some  secret 
satisfaction  in  the  antagonist  feeling  of  resentment  and 
obstinacy  which  that  suffering  might  engender  ;  but  it 
was  carrying  matters  too  far,  and  no  comfort  in  any 
point  of  view,  to  find  Callista,  his  beloved,  the  object 
of  a  similar  punishment.  It  was  all  very  well  to 
profess  Christianity  as  a  matter  of  sentiment,  mystery, 

1  '*  A  woman  is  variable  and  changeable." 


186  CALLISTA ; 

and  singularity ;  but  when  it  was  found  to  compromise 
tlie  life  or  limbs  of  another,  and  that  other  Callista, 
why  it  was  plain  that  Agellius  would  be  the  very  first 
to  try  and  entreat  the  wayward  girl  to  keep  her  good 
looks  for  him,  and  to  be  loyal  to  the  gods  of  her 
country ;  and  he  chuckled  over  the  thought,  as  others 
have  done  in  other  states  of  society,*  of  a  love-scene 
or  marriage  being  the  termination  of  so  much  high 
romance  and  fine  acting. 

However,  the  next  day  Aristo  came  down  to  him 
himself,  and  gave  him  an  account  at  once  more  au- 
thentic and  more  extended  on  the  matter  which  in- 
terested him.  Callista  had  been  called  up  before  the 
tribunal,  and  had  not  been  discharged,  but  remanded. 
The  meaning  of  it  was  as  obscure  as  ever ;  Aristo 
could  give  no  account  of  it ;  it  almost  led  him  to  be- 
lieve in  the  evil  eye;  some  unholy  practices,  some 
spells  such  as  only  potent  wizards  know,  some  de- 
plorable delusion  or  hallucination,  had  for  the  time  got 
the  mastery  of  his  sister's  mind.  No  one  -seemed 
quite  to  know  how  she  had  found  her  way  into  the 
hands  of  the  officers ;  but  there  she  was,  and  the  pro- 
blem was  how  to  get  her  out  of  them. 

However,  whatever  mystery,  whatever  anxiety  at- 
tached to  the  case,  it  was  only  still  more  urgent  to 
bring  the  matter  home  to  Agellius  without  delay.  If 
time  went  on  before  the  parties  were  brought  together, 
she  might  grow  more  obstinate,  and  kindle  a  like 
spirit  in  him.  0  that  boys  and  girls  would  give  old 
people,  who  wish  them  well,  so  much  trouble  !  How- 
ever, it  was  no  good  thinking  of  that  just  then.  He 
thought  that,  at  the  present  moment,  they  would  not 
be  able  to  bear  the  sight  of  each  other  in  suftering  and 
peril ;  that  mutual  tenderness  would  make  them  plead 
with  each  other  in  each  other's  behalf,  and  that  each 
Avould  be  obliged  to  set  the  example  to  each  of  a  con- 
cession, to  which  each  exhorted  each  ;  and  on  this  fine 
philosophical  view  he  proceeded  to  act.    . 


A   SKETCH   OF   THE   THIED    CENTURY.  187 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

!FoE  tMrtj-six  hours  Agellius  had  been  confined  in 
his  underground  receptacle,  light  being  almost  ex- 
cluded, a  bench  and  a  rug  being  his  means  of  repose, 
and  a  full  measure  of  bread,  wine,  and  olives  being 
his  dole.  The  shrieks  and  yells  of  the  rioters  could 
be  distinctly  heard  in  his  prison,  as  the  day  of  his 
seizure  went  on,  and  they  passed  by  the  temple  of 
Astarte ;  but  what  happened  there,  and  how  it  fared 
with  Caecilius,  he  had  no  means  of  conjecturing ;  nor 
indeed  how  it  was  to  fare  with  himself,  ibr,  on  the  face 
of  the  transaction,  as  was  in  form  the  fact,  he  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  law,  and  only  indulged  with  the  house 
of  a  relative  for  his  prison.  On  the  second  night  he 
was  released  by  his  uncle's  confidential  slave,  who 
brought  him  up  to  a  small  back  closet  on  the  ground 
floor,  which  was  lighted  from  the  roof,  and  next  morn- 
ing, being  the  second  day  after  the  riot,  Jucundus 
came  in  to  have  his  confidential  conversation  with  him. 
His  uncle  began  by  telling  him  tiiat  he  was  a  go- 
vernment prisoner,  but  that  he  hoped  by  his  influence 
in  high  places  to  get  him  oW  and  out  of  Sicca,  without 
any  prejudice  to  his  honour.  He  told  him  that  he 
had  managed  it  privately,  and  if  he  had  treated  him 
with  apparent  harshness  up  to  the  evening  before,  it 
was  in  order  to  save  appearances  with  the  apparitors 
who  had  attended  him.  He  then  went  on  to  inform 
him  that  the  mob  had  visited  his  cottage,  and  had 


188  calltsta; 

cauglit  some  man  there  ;  lie  supposed  some  accomplice 
or  ally  of  his  nephew's.  They  had  seized  him,  ana 
were  bringing  him  off,  but  the  fellow  had  been  clever 
enough  to  effect  his  escape.  He  did  not  know  more 
than  this,  but  it  had  happened  very  fortunately,  for 
the  general  belief  in  the  place  was,  that  it  was  Agellius 
who  had  been  taken,  and  who  had  managed  to  give 
them  the  slip.  Since  it  could  not  any  longer  be  safely 
denied  that  he  was  a  Christian,  thougli  he  did  not 
think  so  himself,  he  had  encouraged  or  rather  had  given 
his  confirmation  to  the  report ;  and  when  some  per- 
sons who  had  means  of  knowing  had  asserted  that  the 
culprit  was  double  the  age  of  his  nephew,  and  more, 
and  not  at  all  of  his  make  or  description,  but  a  sort  of 
slave,  or  rather  that  he  was  the  slave  of  Agellius  who 
had  belonged  to  his  father  Strabo,  Jucundus  had 
boldly  asserted  that  Agellius,  in  the  emergency,  had 
availed  himself  of  some  of  the  remarkably  powerful 
charms  which  Christians  were  known  to  possess,  and 
had  made  himself  seem  what  he  really  was  not,  in  order 
to  escape  detection.  It  had  not  indeed  answered  the 
purpose  entirely,  for  he  had  actually  been  taken  ;  but 
no  blame  in  the  charm,  which  perhaps  after  all  had 
enabled  him  to  escape.  However,  Agellius  was  gone, 
he  told  people,  and  a  good  riddance,  and  he  hoped 
never  to  see  him  again.  "  But  you  see,  my  dear  boy," 
lio  concluded,  "  this  was  all  talk  for  the  occasion,  for 
I  hope  you  will  live  here  many  years  in  respectability 
and  credit.  I  intend  you  should  close  my  eyes  when 
my  time  comes,  and  inlierit  whatever  I  have  to  leave 
you ;  for  as  to  that  fellow  Juba,  he  inspires  me  with 
no  confidence  in  him  at  all." 

Agellius  thanked  his  uncle  with  all  his  heart  for  his 
kind  and  successful  efforts  in  his  behalf;  he  did  not 
think  there  was  a  word  he  had  said  in  the  future  he 
had  sketched  for  him  which  he  could  wish  altered. 
In  one  point  he  thought  Jucundus  over-sanguine, 
much  as  he  should  like  to  live  with  him  and  tend  him 
in  his  old  age :  he  did  not  think  he  should  ever  be  per- 


A  SKETCn  OE  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     189 

mitted  to  return  to  Sicca.  He  must  seek  some  remote 
corner  of  the  world,  or  at  least  some  city  where  he 
was  unknown.  Every  one  in  Sicca  would  point  at  him 
as  the  Christian;  he  would  experience  a  thousand 
rubs  and  collisions,  even  if  the  mob  did  not  rise  against 
him,  without  corresponding  advantage ;  on  the  other 
hand,  he  would  have  no  influence.  But  were  he  in 
the  midst  of  a  powerful  and  widely  extended  commu- 
nity of  Christians,  he  might  in  his  place  do  work,  and 
might  extend  the  faith  as  one  of  a  number,  unknown 
himself,  and  strong  in  his  brethren.  He  therefore 
proposed  as  soon  as  possible  to  sell  his  effects  and 
stock,  and  retire  from  the  sight  of  men,  at  least  for  a 
time. 

"  You  think  this  persecution,  then,  will  be  soon  at 
an  end  ?"  asked  Jucundus. 

"I  judge  by  the  past,"  answered  Agellius;  "there 
have  been  times  of  trial  and  of  rest  hitherto,  and 
I  suppose  it  will  be  so  again.  And  one  place  has 
hitherto  been  exempt  from  the  violence  of  our  ene- 
mies, when  another  has  been  the  victim  of  it." 

"A  new  time  is  coming,  trust  me,"  said  Jucundus 
gravely.  "Those  popular  commotions  are  all  over. 
What  happened  two  days  ago  is  a  sample  of  what  will 
come  of  them  ;  they  have  received  their  coup-de-grdce. 
The  state  is  taking  up  the  matter,  Eome  itself,  thank 
the  gods !  a  tougher  sort  of  customer  than  these  vil- 
lain ratcatchers  and  ofllil-eaters,  whom  you  had  to  do 
with  two  days  since.  Grreat  Eome  is  now  at  length 
in  earnest,  my  boy,  which  she  ought  to  have  been  a 
long  time  back,  before  you  were  born,  and  then  you 
know,"  and  he  nodded,  "  you  would  have  had  no 
choice ;  you  wouldn't  have  had  the  temptation  to 
make  a  fool  of  yourself." 

"  AYell  then,"  answered  Agellius,  "if  a  new  time  is 
really  coming,  there  is  less  chance  than  ever  of  my 
continuing  here." 

"l!Cow  be  a  sensible  fellow,  as  you  are  when  you 
choose,"  said  his  uncle ;  "look  the  matter  in  the  face, 


190  CALLISTA ; 

do.  You  cannot  wrestle  witli  impossibilities,  you 
cannot  make  facts  to  pattern.  There  are  lawful  reli- 
gions, there  are  illicit.  Christianity  is  illicit ;  it  is  not 
tolerated;  that's  not  j^our  fault ;  you  cannot  help  it ; 
you  would,  if  you  could;  you  can't;  now  you  have 
observed  your  point  of  honour.  You  have  shown  you 
can  stand  ujd  like  a  man,  and  suffer  for  your  own 
fancy.  Still  Eome  does  not  give  way ;  and  you  must 
make  the  best  of  it.  You  must  give  in,  and  you  are 
far  too  good  (I  don't  compliment,  I  speak  my  mind), 
far  too  amiable,  excellent,  sweet  a  boy  for  so  rascally 
a  superstition." 

"There  is  something  stronger  than  Eome,"  said 
the  nephew  almost  sternly. 

"Agellius!"  answered  Jucundus  shortly,  "j^ou 
must  not  say  that  in  this  house.  You  shall  not  use 
that  language  under  my  roof.     I'll  not  put  up  with  it, 

I  tell  you.     Take  your  treason  elsewhei'e This 

accursed  obstinacy!"  he  said  to  himself,  "but  I  must 
take  care  what  I  am  doing;"  then  aloud,  'Well,  we 
both  of  us  have  been  railing ;  no  good  comes  of  rail- 
ing; railing  is  not  argument.  Eut  now,  I  say,  do  be 
sensible,  if  you  can.  Is  not  th-e  imperial  government 
in  earnest  now  ?  better  late  than  never,  but  it  is  now  in 
earnest.  An*d  now  mark  my  words,  by  this  day  five 
years,  five  years  at  the  utmost, — I  say  by  this  day  five 
years  there  will  not  be  a  single  ragamuffin  Christian 
in  the  whole  Eoman  world."  And  he  looked  fierce. 
"  Ye  gods !  Eome,  Eome  has  swept  from  the  earth  by 
ber  very  breath  conspiracies,  confederacies,  plots 
against  her,  without  ever  failing;  she  will  do  so  now 
with  this  contemptible,  Jew-begotten  foe." 

"In  what  are  we  enemies  to  Eome,  Jucundus?" 
said  Agellius  ;  "  why  will  you  always  take  it  for 
granted  F" 

"  Take  it  for  granted  !  "  answered  he,  "  is  it  not  on 
the  face  of  the  matter  ?  I  suppose  thei/  are  enemies  to  a 
state,  whom  the  state  calls  its  enemies.  Besides,  why 
a  pother  of  words  ?     Swear  by  the  genius  of  the  em- 


A  SKETCH  OF  TKE  THIRD  CENTURY.      191 

peror,  invoke  tlie  Dea  Eoma,  sacrifice  to  Jove ;  no,  not 
a  bit  of  it,  not  a  whisper,  not  a  sign,  not  a  grain  of 
incense.  You  go  out  of  your  way  to  insult  us ;  and 
then  you  come  with  a  grave  face,  and  say  you  are 
loyal.  You  kick  our  shins,  and  you  wish  us  to  kiss 
you  on  both  cheeks  for  it.  A  few  harmless  ceremo- 
nies ;  we  are  not  entrapping  you ;  we  are  not  using 
your  words  against  yourselves ;  we  tell  you  the  mean- 
ing beforehand,  the  whole  meanmg  of  them.  It  is  not 
as  if  we  tied  you  to  the  belief  of  the  nursery  :  we  don't 
say,  '  If  you  burn  incense,  you  profess  to  believe  that 
old  Jupiter  is  shivering  atop  of  Olympus ;'  we  don't 
say,  '  You  swear  by  the  genius  of  Csssar,  therefore  he 
has  a  genius,  black,  or  white,  or  piebald.'  JSTo,  we 
give  you  the  meaning  of  the  act;  it  is  a  mere  expres- 
sion of  loyalty  to  the  empire.  If  then  you  won't  do 
it,  you  confess  yourself,  ijjso  facto  disloyal.  It  is  in- 
comprehensible."    And  he  had  become  quite  red. 

"My  dear  uncle,"  said  Agellius,  "  I  give  you  my 
solemn  word,  that  the  people  whom  you  so  detest  do 
pray  for  the  welfare  of  the  imperial  power  continually, 
as  a  matter  of  duty  and  as  a  matter  of  interest," 

"  Pray  !  pray  !  fudge  and  nonsense  !"  cried  Jucundus, 
almost  mimicking  him  in  his  indignation ;  "  pray  !  who 
thanks  you  for  your  prayers  ?  w^hat's  the  good  of 
prayers  ?  Prayers  indeed !  ha,  ha !  A  little  loyalty 
is  worth  all  the  praying  in  the  world.  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Agellius ;  you  are,  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  but  you 
are  hand  and  glove  witii  a  set  of  traitors,  who  shall  and 
will  be  smoked  out  like  a  nest  of  wasps.  You  don't 
know ;  i/oii,  are  not  in  the  secret,  nor  the  wretched 
slave,  poor  beast,  who  was  pulled  to  pieces  yesterday 
(ah  !  you  don't  know  of  him)  at  the  Flaraen's,  nor  a 
multitude  of  other  idiots.  But,  d'ye  see,"  and  he 
chucked  up  his  head  significantly,  "  there  are  puppets, 
and  there  are  wires.  Few  know  what  is  going  on. 
They  won't  have  done  (unless  we  put  them  down; 
but  we  will)  till  they  have  toppled  down  the  state. 
But  Eome  will  put  them  down.     Come,  be  sensible. 


192  CALLISTA ; 

listen  to  reason ;  now  I  am  going  to  put  facts  before 
my  poor,  dear,  well-meaning  boy.  O  that  you  saw 
things  as  I  do!  What  a  trouble  you  are  to  me! 
Here  am  I — " 

"My  dearest  uncle,  Jucundus,"  cried  Agellius,  "I 
assure  you,  it  is  the  most  intense  pain  to  me — " 

"Very  well,  very  well,"  interrupted  the  uncle  in 
turn,  "  I  believe  it,  of  course  I  believe  it ;  but  listen, 
listen.  Every  now  and  then,"  he  continued  in  a  more 
measured  and  lower  tone,  "  every  now  and  then  the 
secret  is  blabbed, — blabbed.  There  was  that  Tertul- 
lianus  of  Carthage,  some  fifty  years  since.  He  wrote 
books ;  books  have  done  a  great  deal  of  harm  before 
now;  but  read  his  books.  Eead  and  ponder.  The 
fellow  has  the  insolence  to  tell  the  proconsul  that  he 
and  the  whole  government,  the  whole  city  and  pro- 
vince, the  whole  Eoman  world,  the  emperors,  all  but 
the  pitiful  cliq^ue  to  which  he  belongs,  are  destined, 
after  death,  to  flames  for  ever  and  ever.  There's 
loyalty !  but  the  absurdity  is  greater  than  the  male- 
volence. E-ightly  are  the  fellows  called  atheists  and 
men-haters.  Our  soldiers,  our  statesmen,  our  magis- 
trates and  judges,  and  senators,  and  the  whole  com- 
munity, all  worshippers  of  the  gods,  every  one  who 
crowns  his  head,  every  one  who  loves  a  joke,  and  all 
our  great  historic  names,  heroes,  and  worthies, — the 
Scipios,  the  Decii,  Brutus,  Caesar,  Cato,  Titus,  Trajan, 
Antoninus, — are  inmates,  not  of  the  Elysian  fields,  if 
Elysian  fields  there  are,  but  of  Gi^artarus,  and  will  never 
find  a  way  out  of  it." 

"That  man  is  nothing  to  us,  uncle,"  answered 
Agellius ;  "  a  man  of  great  ability,  but  he  quarrelled 
with  us,  and  left  us." 

"  I  can't  draw  nice  distinctions,"  said  Jucundus. 
"  Tour  people  have  quarrelled  among  themselves,  per- 
haps on  an  understanding ;  we  can't  split  hairs.  It's 
the  same  with  your  present  hierophant  at  Carthage, 
Cyprianus.  Nothing  can  exaggerate,  I  am  told,  the 
foulness  of  his  attack  upon  the  gods  of  Eome,  upon 


A   SKETCH    OP   THE    THIRD    CENTTJET.  193 

Eomulus,  the  Augurs,  the  Ancilia,  the  consuls,  and 
whatever  a  Roman  is  proud  of.  As  to  the  imperial 
city  itself,  -there's  hardly  one  of  their  high  priests 
that  has  not  died  under  the  hands  of  the  executioner, 
or  as  a  convict.  The  precious  fellows  take  the  title 
of  Pontifex  Maximus  ;  bless  their  impudence.  AVell, 
my  boy,  this  is  what  I  say ;  be,  if  you  will,  so  pre- 
ternaturally  sour  and  morose  as  to  misconceive  and 
mislike  the  innocent,  graceful,  humanizing,  time- 
honoured  usages  of  society ;  be  so,  for  what  I  care,  if 
this  is  all ;  but  it  isn't  all.  Such  misanthropy  is  wis- 
dom, absolute  wisdom,  compared  Avith  the  Titanic  pre- 
sumption and  audacity  of  challenging  to  single  com- 
bat the  sovereign  of  the  world.  Gro  and  kick  down 
mount  Atlas  first." 

"  You  have  it  all  your  own  way,  Jucundus,"  an- 
swered his  nephew,  "and  so  you  must  move  in  your 
own  circle,  round  and  round.*  There  is  no  touching  you, 
if  yoii  first  assume  your  premisses,  and  then  prove 
them  by  means  of  your  conclusion." 

"My  dear  Agellius,"  said  his  uncle,  giving  his  head 
a  very  solemn  shake,  "  take  the  advice  of  an  old  man. 
When  you  are  older  than  you  are,  you  will  see  better 
who  is  right  and  who  is  wrong.  You'll  be  sorry  you 
despised  me,  a  true,  a  prudent,  an  experienced  friend ; 
you  will.  Shake  yourself,  come,  do.  Why  should 
you  link  your  fortunes,  in  the  morning  of  life,  with 
desperate  men,  only  because  your  father,  in  his  last 
feeble  days,  was  entrapped  into  doing  so  ?  I  really 
will  not  believe  that  you  are  going  to  throw  away  hope 
and  life  on  so  bad  a  bargain.  Can't  you  speak  a  word. 
Here  you've  let  me  speak,  and  won't  say  one  syllable 
for  yourself.     I  don't  think  it  kind  of  you." 

Thus  adjured,  Agellius  began.  "Well,"  he  said, 
"  it's  a  long  history ;  you  see,  we  start,  my  dear  uncle, 
from  diflerent  points.  How  am  I  possibly  to  join 
issue  with  you  ?  I  can  only  tell  you  my  conclusion. 
Hope  and  life,  you  say.     Why,  my  only  hope,  my  only 

o 


194  CALLISTA ; 

life,  my  only  joy,  desire,  consolation,  and  treasure  is 
that  I  am  a  Christian." 

"  Hope  and  life  !"  interrupted  Jucundus, "  immortal 
gods !  life  and  hope  in  being  a  Christian !  do  I  hear 
aright  ?  Why  man,  a  prison  brings  despair,  not  hope  ; 
and  the  sword  brings  death,  not  life.  By  Esculapius  !  life 
and  hope !  you  choke  me,  Agellius.  Life  and  hope ! 
you  are  beyond  three  Anticyras.  Life  and  hope !  if  you 
were  old,  if  you  were  diseased,  if  you  were  given  over, 
and  had  but  one  puff  of  life  left  in  you,  then  you 
might  be  what  you  would,  for  me;  but  your  hair  is 
black,  your  cheek  is  round,  your  limbs  are  strong, 
your  voice  is  full ;  and  you  are  going  to  make  all  these 
a  sacrifice  to  Hecate !  has  your  good  genius  fed  that 
plump  frame,  ripened  those  good  looks,  nerved  your 
arm,  bestowed  that  breadth  of  chest,  that  strength  of 
loins,  that  straightness  of  spine,  that  vigour  of  step, 
only  that  you  may  feed  the  crows  ?  or  to  be  torn  on 
the  rack,  scorched  in  the  flame,  or  hung  on  the  gib- 
bet ?  is  this  your  gratitude  to  nature  ?  "What  has 
been  your  price?  for  what  have  you  sold  yourself ? 
Speak,  man,  speak.  Are  you  dumb  as  well  as  dement  ? 
Are  3^ou  dumb,  I  say,  are  you  dmnb  ?" 

"  O  Jucundus,"  cried  Agellius,  irritated  at  his  own 
inability  to  express  himself  or  hold  an  argument,  "if 
you  did  but  know  what  it  was  to  have  the  Truth! 
The  Christian  has  found  the  Truth,  the  Eternal  Truth, 
in  a  world  of  error.  That  is  his  bargain,  that  is  his 
hire ;  can  there  be  a  greater  ?  Can  I  give  up  the 
Truth  ?    But  all  this  is  Punic  or  Barbar  to  you." 

It  certainly  did  pose  Jucundus  for  half  a  minute,  as 
if  he  was  trying  to  take  in,  not  so  much  the  sense,  as 
the  words  of  his  nephew's  speech.  He  looked  amazed, 
and  though  he  began  to  answer  him  at  once,  it  took 
several  sentences  to  bring  him  into  his  usual  flow  of 
language.  After  one  or  two  exclamations,  "  The  truth  !" 
he  cried,  "  this  is  what  I  understand  you  to  say, — the 
truth.     The  ti'iUh  is  your  bargain ;  I  think  I'm  right, 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CEXTURT.     195 

the  truth  I  Hm  ;  what  is  truth  ?  AVhat  in  heaven  and 
earth  do  3-ou  mean  by  truth  ?  where  did  you  get  that 
cant  ?  "What  oriental  tomfoolery  is  bamboozling  you  ? 
The  truth!"  he  cried,  staring  at  him  with  eyes,  half 
of  triumph,  half  of  impatience,  "  the  truth  !  Jove  help 
the  boy! — the  truth!  can  truth  pour  me  out  a  cup 
of  melilotus  ?  can  truth  crown  me  with  flowers  ?  can  it 
sing  to  me  ?  can  it  bring  Grlyceris  to  me  ?  drop  gold 
into  my  girdle  ?  or  cool  my  brows  when  fever  visits 
me  ?  Can  truth  give  me  a  handsome  suburban  with 
some  five  hundred  slaves,  or  raise  me  to  the  duum- 
virate ?  Let  it  do  this,  and  1  will  worship  it ;  it  shall 
be  my  god ;  it  shall  be  more  to  me  than  Fortune,  Fate, 
Home,  or  any  other  goddess  on  the  list.  But  2  like 
to  see,  and  touch,  and  feel,  and  handle,  and  weigh, 
and  measure  what  is  promised  me.  I  wish  to  have  a 
sample  and  an  instalment.  I  am  too  old  for  chaff. 
Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  that's  my  philosophy,  that's 
my  religion;  and  I  know  no  better.  To-day  is  ours, 
to-morrow  is  our  children's." 

After  a  pause,  he  added  bitterly.  "  If  truth  could 
get  Callista  out  of  prison,  instead  of  getting  her  into 
it,  I  should  have  something  to  say  to  truth." 

"  CaUista  in  prison!"  cried  Ageliius  with  surprise 
and  distress,  "what  do  you  mean,  Jucundus?" 

"Yes,  it's  a  fact;  Callista  is  in  prison,"  answered 
he,  "and  on  suspicion  of  Christianity." 

"  Callista!  Christianity  !"  said  Ageliius,  bewildered; 
"  do  I  hear  aright  ?  She  a  Christian !  oh,  impossible, 
uncle!  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  she  is  in  prison. 
Tell  me,  tell  me,  my  dear,  dear  Jucundus,  what  this 
wonderful  news  means." 

"You  ought  to  know  about  it  more  than  I,"  an- 
swered he,  "  if  there  is  any  meaning  in  it.  But  if  you 
want  my  opinion,,  here  it  is.  I  don't  believe  she  is 
more  a  Christian  than  I  am ;  but  I  think  she  is  over 
liead  and  ears  in  love  with  you,  and  she  has  some 
notion  that  she  is  paying  you  a  compliment,  or  inter- 
esting you  in  her,  or  sharing  your  fate— (J  can't  pre- 
o  2 


196  CALLISTA ; 

tend  to  unravel  the  vagaries  and  tautaruras  of  the 
female  mind)  — by  saying  that  she  is  ^vl]at  she  is  7iot. 
If  not,  perhaps  she  has  done  it  out  of  spite  and  con- 
tradiction.    You  can  never  answer  for  a  woman." 

''Whom  should  she  spite?  whom  contradict?" 
cried  Agellius,  thrown  for  the  moment  off  his  balance. 
"  O  Callista !  Callista  in  prison  for  Christianity  !  Oh 
if  it's  true  that  she  is  a  Christian !  but  what  if  she's 
not  ?"  he  added  with  great  terror,  "  what  if  she's  not, 
and  yet  in  prison,  as  if  she  were  ?  How  are  we  to 
get  her  out,  uncle?  Impossible!  no,  she's  not  a 
Christian, — she  is  not  at  all.  She  ought  not  to  be 
there !     Yet  how  wonderful ! " 

"AVell,  I  am  sure  of  it  too,"  said  Jucundus;  "I'd 
stake  the  best  image  in  my  shop  that  she's  not  a 
Christian ;  but  what  if  she  is  perverse  enough  to  say 
she  is  't  and  such  things  are  not  uncommon.  Then,  I 
say,  what  in  the  world  is  to  be  done  ?  If  she  says  she 
is,  why  she  is.  There  you  are ;  and  what  can  you 
do?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  exclaimed  Agellius, 
"that  that  sweet,  delicate  child  is  in  that  horrible 
hole,  impossible!"  and  he  nearly  shrieked  at  the 
thought.  "  AVhat  is  the  meaning  of  it  all?  dear, 
dear  uncle,  do  tell  me  something  more  about  it.  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?     AVhat  can  be  done  ?" 

Jucundus  thought  he  now  had  him  in  his  hand. 
"  Why,  it's  plain,"  he  answered,  "  what  can  be  done. 
She's  no  Christian,  we  both  agree.  It's  certain  too, 
that  she  chooses  to  say  she  is,  or  something  like  it. 
There's  just  one  person  who  has  influence  with  her, 
to  make  her  tell  the  truth." 

"Ha!"  cried  Agellius,  starting  as  if  an  asp  had 
bitten  him. 

Jucundus  kept  silence,  and  let  the  poison  of  the 
said  asp  work  awhile  in  his  nephew's  blood. 

Agellius  put  his  hands  before  his  eyes ;  and  with 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  began  moving  to  and  fro,  as 
if  in  intense  pain. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     197 

"I  repeat  what  I  have  said,"  Jucundus  observed 
at  length ;  "  I  do  really  think  that  she  fancies  a  cer- 
tain young  gentleman  is  likely  to  be  in  trouble,  and 
that  she  is  determined  to  share  the  trouble  with  him." 

"But  it  isn't  true,"  cried  Agellius  with  great  vehe- 
mence ;  "  it's  not  true.  .  .  If  she  really  is  not  a  Chris- 
tian, 0  my  dear  Lord,  surely  they  won't  put  her  to 
death  as  if  she  was  ?" 

"  But  if  she  has  made  up  her  mind  to  be  in  the 
same  boat  witli  you,  and  ivill  be  a  Christian  while  you 
are  a  Christian,  what  on  earth  can  we  do,  Agel- 
lius?" asked  Jucundus.  "You  have  the  whole  mat- 
ter in  a  nutshell." 

"She  does  not  love  me,"  cried  Agellius;  "no,  she 
has  given  me  no  reason  to  think  so.  I  am  sure  she 
does  not.  She's  nothing  to  me.  That  cannot  be  the 
reason  of  her  conduct.  I  have  no  power  over  her ;  1 
could  not  persuade  her.  What,  what  does  all  this 
mean?  and  I  shut  up  here!"  and  he  began  walking 
about  the  little  room,  as  if  such  locomotion  tended  to 
bring  him  out  of  it. 

"Well,"  answered  Jucundus,  "it  is  easy  to  ascer- 
tain.    I  suppose,  you  could  be  let  out  to  see  her." 

But  he  was  going  on  too  fast;  Agellius  did  not 
attend  to  him.  "Poor,  sweet  Callista,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  she's  innocent,  she's  innocent ;  I  mean,  she's  not  a 
Christian.  Ah!"  he  screamed  out  in  great  agony,  as 
the  whole  state  of  the  case  unrolled  itself  to  his  ap- 
prehension, "  she  will  die  though  not  a  Christian  ;  she 
will  die  without  faith,  without  love;  she  will  die  in 
her  sins.  She  will  die,  done  to  death  by  false  report 
of  accepting  that,  by  which  alone  she  could  be  carried 
safely  through  death  unto  life.  0  my  Lord,  spare 
me!"  and  he  sank  upon  the  ground  in  a  collapse  of 
misery. 

Jucundus  was  touched,  and  still  more  alarmed. 
"Come,  come,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "you  will  rouse  the 
whole  neighbourhood.  Give  over;  be  a  man;  all  will 
be  right.     If  she's  not  a  Christian  (and  she's  not), 


198  CALLISTA ; 

she  shall  not  die  a  Christian's  death ;  something  "will 
turn  np.  She's  not  in  any  hole  at  all,  but  in  a  decent 
lodging.  And  you  shall  see  her,  and  console  her,  and 
all  Avill  be  right." 

"  Yes,  I  will  see  her,"  said  Agellius,  in  a  sort  of 
musing  manner ;  "  she  is  either  a  Christian,  or  she  is 
not.  If  she  is  a  Christian.  .  ."  and  his  voice  fal- 
tered ;  "  but  if  she  is  not,  she  shall  live  till  she  is." 

"Well  said!"  answered  Jucundus,  "till  she  is. 
She  shall  live  till  she  is.  Yes,  I  can  get  you  to  see 
her.  You  shall  bring  her  out  of  prison ;  a  smile,  a 
whisper  from  you,  and  all  her  fretfulness  and  ill- 
humour  will  vanish,  like  a  mist  before  the  powerful 
burning  sun.  And  we  shall  all  be  as  happy  as  the 
immortal  gods." 

"  O  my  uncle,"  said  Agellius  gravely.  The  lan- 
guage of  Jucundus  had  shocked  him,  and  brought  him 
to  a  better  mind.  He  turned  away  from  Jucundus, 
and  leant  his  face  against  the  wall.  Then  he  turned 
round  again,  and  said,  "  If  she  is  a  Christian,  I  ought 
to  rejoice,  and  I  do  rejoice  ;  God  be  praised.  If  she  is 
not  a  Christian,  I  ought  at  once  to  make  her  one. 
If  she  has  already  the  penalty  of  a  Christian,  she  is 
surely  destined  for  the  privilege.  And  how  should  I 
go,"  he  said  half  speaking  to  himself,  "how  should  I 
go  to  tell  her  that  she  is  not  yefc  a  Christian,  and  bid 
her  swear  by  Jupiter,  because  that  is  her  god,  in  order 
that  she  may  escape  imprisonment  and  death  ?  Am  I 
to  do  the  part  of  a  heathen  priest  or  infidel  sophist  ? 

0  Csecilius,  how  soon  am  I  forgetting  your  lessons ! 
No  ;  I  will  go  on  no  such  errand.  Go  I  will,  if  I  may, 
Jucundus ;  but  I  will  go  on  no  conditions  of  yours. 

1  go  on  no  promise  to  try  to  get  her  out  of  prison  any 
how,  poor  child.  I  will  not  go  to  make  her  sacrifice 
to  a  false  god ;  I  go  to  persuade  her  to  stay  in  prison, 
by  deserving  to  stay.  Perhaps  I  am  not  the  best 
person  to  go  ;  but  if  I  go,  I  go  free.  I  go  willing  to 
(lie  myself  for  my  Lord;  glad  to  make  her  die  for 
Him." 


A    SKETCH    Oi^    THE    THIIID    CENTURY.  199 

Agellius  said  this  in  so  determined  a  way,  so  calmly, 
with  such  a  grasp  of  the  existing  posture  of  affairs, 
and  of  the  whole  circumstances  of  the  case,  that  it  was 
now  Jucundus's  turn  to  feel  surprise  and  annoyance. 
Eor  a  time  he  did  not  take  in  what  Agellius  meant, 
nor  could  he  to  the  last  follow  his  train  of  feeling. 
AVhen  he  saw  what  may  be  called  the  upshot  of  the 
matter,  lie  becam.e  very  angry,  and  spoke  with  great 
violence.  By  degrees  he  calmed ;  and  then  the  strong 
feeling  came  on  him  again  that  it  was  impossible,  if  a 
meeting  took  place  between  the  two,  that  it  could  end 
in  any  way  but  one.  He  defied  any  two  young  peo- 
ple, who  loved  each  other,  to  come  to  any  but  one 
conclusion.  Agellius' s  mood  was  too  excited,  too 
tragic  to  last.  The  sight  of  Callista  in  that  dreadful 
prison,  perhaps  in  chains,  waiting,  in  order  to  be  free, 
for  ability  to  say  the  words,  "  I  am  not  a  Christian  ;" 
and  tliat  ability  waiting  for  the  same  words  from  him- 
self, would  bring  the  affair  to  a  very  speedy  issue.  As 
if  he  could  love  a  fancy  better  than  he  loved  Callista ! 
Agellius  too  had  already  expressed  a  misgiving  him- 
self on  that  head ;  so  far  they  were  agreed.  And,  to 
tell  the  truth,  it  was  a  very  delicate  transaction  for 
a  young  man ;  and  giving  our  poor  Agellius  all  credit 
for  pure  intention  and  firm  resolve,  we  really  should 
have  been  very  sorry  to  see  him  involved  in  a  trial, 
which  would  have  demanded  of  him  a  most  heroic 
faith  and  the  detachment  of  a  saint.  AVe,  therefore,  are 
not  sorry  that  in  matter  of  fact  he  gained  the  merit 
of  so  virtuous  a  determination,  without  being  called 
on  to  execute  it.  Eor  it  so  happened,  that  a  most 
unexpected  event  occurred  to  him  not  many  hours 
afterwards,  which  will  oblige  us  to  take  up  here  rather 
abruptly  the  history  of  one  of  our  other  personages. 


200  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

In  the  bosom  of  tlie  woods  which  stretched  for  many 
miles  from  the  immediate  environs  of  Sicca,  and  placed 
on  a  gravel  slope  which  reached  down  to  a  brook, 
which  ran  in  a  bottom  close  by,  was  a  small,  rude  hut, 
of  a  kind  peculiar  to  Africa,  and  commonly  ascribed 
to  the  wandering  tribes,  who  neither  cared,  nor  had 
leisure,  for  a  more  stable  habitation.  Some  might 
have  called  it  a  tent,  from  the  goat's-hair  cloth  with 
which  it  was  covered ;  but  it  looked,  as  to  shape,  like 
nothing  else  than  an  inverted  boat,  or  the  roof  of  a 
house  set  upon  the  ground.  Inside  it  was  seen  to  be 
constructed  of  the  branches  of  trees,  twisted  together 
or  wattled,  the  interstices,  or  rather  tlie  whole  sur- 
face, being  covered  with  clay.  Being  thus  stoutly 
built,  lined,  and  covered,  it  was  proof  against  the 
tremendous  rains,  to  which  the  climate,  for  which  it 
was  made,  was  subject.  Along  the  centre  ridge  or 
backbone,  which  varied  in  height  from  six  to  ten  feet 
from  the  ground,  it  was  supported  by  three  posts  or 
pillars ;  at  one  end  it  rose  conically  to  an  open  aper- 
ture, which  served  for  chimney,  for  window,  and  for 
the  purposes  of  ventilation.  Hooks  were  suspended 
from  the  roof  for  baskets,  articles  of  clothing,  wea- 
pons, and  implements  of  various  kinds ;  and  a  second 
cone,  excavated  in  the  ground  with  the  vertex  down- 
ward, served  as    a    storehouse  for  grain.     The  door 


A   SKETCH   OF   THE   THIRD    CENTTJET.  201 

was  so  low,  that  an  ordinary  person  must  bend  double 
to  pass  tbrougli  it. 

However,  it  was  in  the  winter  months  only,  when 
the  rains  were  profuse,  that  the  owner  of  this  respect- 
able mansion  condescended  to  creep  into  it.  In  sum- 
mer she  had  a  drawing-room,  as  it  may  be  called,  of 
nature's  own  creation,  in  which  she  lived,  and  in  one 
quarter  of  which  she  had  her  lair.  Close  above  the 
hut  was  a  high  plot  of  level  turf,  surrounded  by  old 
oalis,  and  fringed  beneath  with  thick  underwood.  In 
the  centre  of  this  green  rose  a  yew  tree  of  primeval 
character.  Indeed,  the  whole  forest  spoke  of  the  very 
beginnings  of  the  world,  as  if  it  had  been  the  imme- 
diate creation  of  that  Voice  whicli  bade  the  earth  clothe 
itself  with  green  life.  But  the  place  no  longer  spoke 
exclusively  of  its  Maker.  Upon  the  trees  hung  the 
emblems  and  objects  of  idolatry,  and  the  turf  was 
traced  with  magical  characters.  Littered  about  were 
human  bones,  horns  of  wild  animals,  wax  figures, 
spermaceti  taken  from  vaults,  large  nails,  to  which 
portions  of  flesh  adhered,  as  if  they  had  had  to  do 
with  malefactors,  metal  plates  engraved  with  strange 
characters,  bottled  blood,  hair  of  young  persons,  and 
old  rags.  The  reader  must  not  suppose  any  incan- 
tation is  about  to  follow,  or  that  the  place  we  are 
describing  will  have  a  prominent  place  in  what  re- 
mains of  .our  tale;  but  even  if  it  be  the  scene  of  only 
one  conversation,  and  one  event,  there  is  no  harm  in 
describing  it,  as  it  appeared  on  that  occasion. 

The  old  crone,  who  was  seated  in  this  bower  of 
delight,  had  an  expression  of  countenance  in  keeping, 
not  with  the  place,  but  with  the  furniture  with  which 
it  was  adorned :  that  furniture  told  her  trade.  Whether 
the  root  of  superstition  might  be  traced  deeper  still, 
and  the  woman  and  her  traps  were  really  and  directly 
connected  with  the  powers  beneath  the  earth,  it  is 
impossible  to  determine :  it  is  certain  she  had  the  will, 
it  is  certain  that  that  will  was  from  their  inspiration  j 


202  CALLISTA ; 

nay,  it  is  certain  that  she  thought  she  really  possessed 
the  conimuiiications  which  she  desired;  it  is  certain, 
too,  she  so  far  deceived  herself  as  to  fancy  that  what 
she  learned  by  mere  natural  means  came  to  lier  from 
a  diabolical  source.  She  kept  up  an  active  corre- 
spondence with  Sicca.  She  was  consulted  by  numbers  : 
she  was  up  with  the  public  news,  the  social  gossip,  and 
the  private  and  secret  transactions  of  the  hour ;  and 
had,  before  now,  even  interfered  in  matters  of  state, 
and  had  been  courted  by  rival  political  parties.  But 
in  the  high  cares  and  occupations  of  this  interesting 
person,  we  are  not  heie  concerned;  but  with  a  con- 
versation which  took  place  between  her  and  Juba, 
about  the  same  hour  of  the  evening  as  that  of  Csecilius's 
escape,  but  on  the  day  after  it,  while  the  sun  was 
gleaming  almost  horizontally  through  the  tall  trunks 
of  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

"  Well,  my  precious  boy,"  said  the  old  woman,  "the 
choicest  gifts  of  great  Cham  be  your  portion !  You 
had  excellent  sport  yesterday,  I'll  warrant.  The  rats 
squeaked,  eh?  and  you  beat  the  life  out  of  .them. 
That  scoundrel  sacristan,  I  suppose,  has  taken  up  his 
quarters  below." 

"You  may  say  it,"  answered  Juba.  "  The  reptile! 
he  turned  riglit  about,  and  would  have  made  him- 
self an  honest  fellow,  when  it  couldn't  be  helped." 

"  Grood,  good!"  returned  Gurta,  as  if  she  had  got 
something  very  pleasant  in  her  mouth ;  "  ah  !  that  is 
good  !  but  he  did  not  escape  on  that  score,  I  do  trust." 

"  They  pulled  him  to  pieces  all  the  more  cheerfully," 
said  Juba. 

"  Pulled  him  to  pieces,  limb  by  limb,  joint  by  joint, 
eh?"  answered  Gurta.  "Did  they  skin  him? — did 
they  do  any  thing  to  his  eyes,  or  his  tongue  ?  Any 
how,  it  was  too  quickly,  Juba.  Slowly,  leisurely, 
gradually.  Yes,  it's  like  a  glutton  to  be  quick  about 
it.  Taste  him,  handle  him,  play  with  him, — that's 
luxury !  but  to  bolt  him,— faugh !" 


A    SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CEKTITRY.  203 

"Caeso's  slave  made  a  good  end,"  said  Juba:  "lie 
stood  up  for  his  views,  and  died  like  a  man." 

"The  gods  smite  him  !  but  he  has  gone  up,— up  :" 
and  she  laughed.  "  Up  to  what  they  call  bliss  and 
glory; — such  glory!  but  he's  out  of  their  domain, 
you  know.     But  he  did  not  die  easy  ?" 

"  The  boys  worried  him  a  good  deal,"  answered 
Juba :  "  but  it's  not  quite  in  ray  line,  mother,  all  this. 
I  think  you  drink  a  pint  of  blood  morning  and  evening, 
and  thrive  on  it,  old  woman.  It  makes  you  merry ; 
but  it's  too  much  for  my  stomach." 

"  Ha,  ha,  my  boy!"  cried  Gurta ;  "you'll  improve 
in  time,  though  you  make  wry  faces,  now  that  you're 
young.^  Well,  and  have  you  brought  me  any  news 
from  the  capitol  ?  Is  any  one  getting  a  rise  in  the 
world,  or  a  downfall?  How  blows  the  wind?  Are 
there  changes  in  the  camp  ?  This  Decius,  I  suspect, 
will  not  last  long." 

"They  all  seem  desperately  frightened,"  said  Juba, 
"lest  they  should  not  smite  your  friends  hard  enough, 
Gurta.  Eoot  and  branch  is  the  word.  They'll  have 
to  make  a  few  Christians  for  the  occasion,  in  order  to 
kill  them :  and  I  almost  think  they're  about  it,"  he 
added,  thoughtfully.  "  They  have  to  show  that  they 
are  not  surpassed  by  the  rabble.  'Tis  a  pity  Christians 
are  so  few,  isn't  it,  mother  ?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  said;  "but  we  must  crush  them, 
grind  them,  many  or  few^ :  and  we  shall,  we  shall ! 
Callista's  to  come." 

"  I  don't  see  they  are  worse  than  other  people," 
said  Juba ;  "  not  at  all,  except  that  they  are  com- 
monly sneaks.  If  Callista  turns,  why  should  not  I 
turn  too,  mother,  to  keep  her  companv,  and  keep  your 
hand  in?" 

"  No,  no,  my  boy,"  returned  the  witch,  "you  must 
serve  mij  master.  Tou  are  having  your  fling  just  now, 
but  you  will  buckle  to  in  good  time.  Tou  must  one 
day  take  some  work  with  my  merry  men.  Come  here, 
child,"  said  the  fond  mother,  "and  let  me  kiss  you." 


204  CALLTSTA ; 

"Keep  your  kisses  for  your  monkeys,  and  goats, 
and  cats,"  answered  Juba :  "  they're  not  to  my  taste, 
old  dame.  Master !  my  master !  I  won't  have  a 
master!  I'll  be  nobody's  servant.  I'll  never  stand 
to  be  hired,  nor  cringe  to  a  bully^  nor  quake  before  a 
rod.  Please  yourself,  Gurta ;  I'm  a  free  man.  You're 
my  mother  by  courtesy  only." 

Gurta  looked  at  him  savagely.  "  Why  you're  not 
going  to  be  pious  and  virtuous,  Juba?  A  choice 
saint  you'll  make !     You  shall  be  drawn  for  a  picture." 

"  Why  shouldn't  I,  if  I  choose  ?"  said  Juba.  "  If 
I  must  take  service,  willy,  nilly,  I'd  any  day  prefer  tlie 
other's  to  that  of  your  friend.  I've  not  left  the 
master  to  take  the  man." 

"  Blaspheme  not  the  great  gods,"  she  answered, 
"or  they'll  do  you  a  mischief  yet." 

"  I  say  again,"  insisted  Juba,  "  if  I  must  lick  the 
earth,  it  shall  not  be  where  your  friend  has  trod.  It 
shall  be  in  my  brother's  fashion,  rather  than  in  yours, 
Gurta." 

"Agellius!"  she  shrieked  out  with  such  disgust, 
that  it  is  wonderful  she  uttered  the  name  at  all. 
"  Ah !  you  have  not  told  me  about  him,  boy.  Well, 
is  he  safe  in  the  pit,  or  in  the  stomach  of  an  hyena  ?" 

"He's  alive,"  said  Juba;  "but  he  has  not  got  it 
in  him  to  be  a  Christian.  Yes,  he's  safe  with  his 
uncle." 

"Ah!  Jucundus  must  ruin  him,  debauch  him,  and 
then  we  must  make  away  with  him.  We  must  not 
be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Gurta,  "it  must  be  body  and 
soul." 

"No  one  shall  touch  him,  craven  as  he  is,"  answered 
Juba.     "  I  despise  him,  but  let  him  alone." 

"Don't  come  across  me,"  said  Gurta,  sullenly; 
"  I'll  have  my  way.  Why,  you  know  I  could  smite 
you  to  the  dust,  as  well  as  him,  if  I  chose." 

"  But  you  have  not  asked  me  about  Callista,"  an- 
swered Juba.  "  It  is  really  a  capital  joke,  but  she  has 
got  into  prison  for   certain,   for  being   a  Christian. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     205 

Pancy  it !  they  caught  her  in  the  streets,  and  put  her  in 
the  guard-house,  and  liave  had  her  up  for  examination. 
You  see  they  want  a  Christian  for  the  nonce  :  it  would 
not  do  to  have  none  such  in  prison  ;  so  they  will  flourish 
with  her  till  Decius  bolts  from  the  scene. 

"The  furies  have  her!"  cried  Gurta :  "she  is  a 
Christian,  my  boy :  I  told  you  so,  long  ago." 

"  Callista  a  Christian!"  answered  Juba,  "ha!  ha! 
She  and  Agellius  are  going  to  make  a  match  of  it,  of 
some  sort  or  other.  They're  thinking  of  other  things 
than  paradise." 

"  She  and  the  old  priest,  more  likely,  more  likely," 
said  Gurta.  "He's  in  prison  with  her,— in  the  pit, 
as  I  trust." 

"  Tour  master  has  cheated  you  for  once,  old  wo- 
man," said  Juba. 

Gurta  looked  at  him  fiercely,  and  seemed  waiting 
for  his  explanation.     He  began  singing : — 

*'  She  wheedled  and  coaxed,  but  he  was  no  fool; 
He'd  be  his  own  master,  he'd  not  be  her  tool ; 
Not  the  little  black  moor  should  send  him  to  school. 

"  She  foamed  and  she  cursed, — 'twas  the  same  thing  to  him ; 
She  laid  well  her  trap  ;  but  he  carried  his  whim : — 
The  priest  scuffled  off,  safe  in  life  and  in  limb." 

Gurta  was  almost  sufibcated  with  passion.  "  Cy- 
prianus  has  not  escaped,  boy  ?"  she  asked  at  length. 

"  I  got  him  off,"  said  Juba,  undauntedly. 

A  shade,  as  of  Erebus,  passed  over  the  witch's  face ; 
but  she  remained  quite  silent. 

"Mother,  I  am  my  own  master,"  he  continued. 
"  I  must  break  your  assumption  of  superiority.  I'm 
not  a  boy,  though  you  call  me  so.  I'll  have  my  own 
way.  Yes,  I  saved  Cyprianus.  You're  a  blood- 
thirsty old  hag!  Yes,  i't-e  seen  your  secret  doings. 
Did  not  I  catch  you  the  other  day,  practising  on  that 
little  child?  You  had  nailed  him  up  by  hands  and 
feet  against  the  tree,  and  were  cutting  hira  to  pieces 
at  your  leisure,  as  he  quivered  and  shrieked  the  while. 


206  CALLISTA ; 

You  were  examining  or  using  his  liver  for  some  of  your 
black  purposes.  It's  not  in  my  line  ;  but  you  gloated 
over  it ;  and  when  he  wailed,  you  wailed  in  mimicry. 
You  were  panting  with  pleasure." 

G-urta  was  still  silent,  and  had  an  expression  on  her 
face,  awful  from  the  intensity  of  its  malignity.  She 
had  uttered  a  low  piercing  R'histle. 

"  Yes  !"  continued  Juba,  "  you  revelled  in  it.  You 
chattered  to  the  poor  babe,  when  it  screamed,  as  a 
nurse  to  an  infant.  You  called  it  pretty  names,  and 
squeaked  out  your  satisfaction  each  time  you  stuck  it. 
You  old  hag!  I'm  not  of  your  breed,  though  they 
say  I  am  of  your  blood.  J  don't  fear  you,"  he  said, 
observing  the  expression  of  her  countenance,  "  I  don't 
fear  the  immortal  devil!"  And  he  continued  his 
song : — 

"  She  beckoned  the  moon,  and  the  moon  came  down  ; 
The  green  earth  shrivelled  beneath  her  frown ; 
But  a  man's  strong  will  can  keep  his  own." 

AA^hile  he  was  talking  and  singing,  her  call  had 
been  answered  from  the  hut.  An  animal  of  some 
wonderful  species  had  crept  out  of  it,  and  proceeded 
to  creep  and  crawl,  moeing  and  twisting  as  it  went, 
along  the  trees  and  shrubs  which  rounded  the  grass 
plot.  AVhen  it  came  up  to  the  old  woman,  it  crouched 
at  her  feet,  and  then  rose  up  upon  its  hind  legs  and 
begged.  She  took  hold  of  the  uncouth  beast  and 
began  to  fondle  it  in  her  arms,  muttering  something  iu 
its  ear.  At  length,  when  Juba  stopped  for  a  moment 
in  his  song,  she  suddenly  flung  it  right  at  him,  with 
great  force,  saying,  "Take  that!"  She  then  gave 
utterance  to  a  low  inward  laugh,  and  leaned  herself 
back  against  the  trunk  of  tlie  tree  under  which  she 
was  sitting,  with  her  knees  drawn  up  almost  to  her 
chin. 

The  blow  seemed  to  act  on  Juba  as  a  shock  on  his 
nervous  system,  botli  from  its  violence  and  its  strange- 
ness.    He  stood  still  for  a  moment,  and  then,  without 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CEKTUET.     207 

saying  a  word,  he  turned  away,  and  walked  slowly 
down  the  hill,  as  if  in  a  maze.     Then  he  sat  down.  .  .  . 

In  an  instant  up  he  started  again  with  a  great  cry, 
and  began  running  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  He 
thought  he  heard  a  voice  speaking  in  him ;  and,  how- 
ever last  he  ran,  the  voice,  or  whatever  it  was,  kept  up 
with  hira.  He  rushed  through  the  underwood,  tram- 
pling and  crushing  it  under  his  feet,  and  scaring  the 
birds  and  small  game  which  lodged  there.  At  last, 
exhausted,  he  stood  still  for  breatli,  when  he  heard  it 
say  loudly  and  deeply,  as  if  speaking  with  his  own 
organs,  "You  cannot  escape  from  yourself!"  Then 
a  terror  seized  him  ;  he  fell  down  and  fainted  away. 

When  his  senses  returned,  his  first  impression 
was  of  something  in  him  not  himself.  He  felt  it  in 
his  breathing;  he  tasted  it  in  his  mouth.  The  brook 
which  ran  by  Gurta's  encampment  had  by  this  time 
become  a  streamlet,  though  still  shallow.  He  plunged 
into  it ;  a  feeling  came  upon  him  as  if  he  ought  to 
drown  himself,  had  it  been  deeper.  He  rolled  about 
in  it,  in  spite  of  its  flinty  and  rocky  bed.  AVhen  he 
came  out  of  it,  his  tunic  sticking  to  him,  he  tore  it  off 
his  shoulders,  and  let  it  hang  round  his  girdle  in 
shreds,  as  it  might.  The  shock  of  the  water,  however, 
acted  as  a  sedative  upon  him,  and  the  coolness  of  the 
night  refreshed  him.  He  walked  on  for  a  while  in 
silence. 

Suddenly  the  power  within  him  began  uttering,  by 
means  of  his  organs  of  speech,  the  most  fearful  blas- 
phemies, words  embodying  conceptions  which,  had  they 
come  into  his  mind,  he  might  indeed  have  borne  with 
patience  before  this,  or  uttered  in  bravado,  but  which 
now  filled  him  with  inexpressible  loathing,  and  a 
terror  to  which  he  had  hitherto  been  quite  a  stranger. 
He  had  always  in  his  heart  believed  in  a  God,  but  he 
jiow  belie\'ed  with  a  reality  and  intensity  utterly  new 
to  him.  He  felt  it  as  if  he  saw  Hira;  he  felt  there 
was  a  world  of  good  and  evil  beings.  He  did  not  love 
the  good,  or  hate  the  evil ;  but  he  shrank  from  the 


208  CALLTSTA ; 

one,  and  he  was  terrified  at  the  other;  and  he  felt 
himself  carried  a^Yay,  against  his  will,  as  the  prey  of 
some  dreadful,  mysterious  power,  which  tyrannized 
over  him. 

The  day  had  closed — the  moon  had  risen.  He 
plunged  into  the  thickest  wood,  and  the  trees  seemed 
to  him  to  make  way  for  him.  Still  they  seemed  to 
moan  and  to  creak  as  they  moved  out  of  their  place. 
Soon  he  began  to  see  that  they  were  looking  at  him, 
and  exulting  over  his  misery.  They,  of  an  inferior 
nature,  had  had  no  gift  to  abuse  and  lose ;  and  they 
remained  in  that  honour  and  perfection  in  which  they 
were  created.  Birds  of  the  night  flew  out  of  them, 
reptiles  slunk  aAvay ;  yet  soon  he  began  to  be  sur- 
rounded, wherever  he  went,  by  a  circle  of  owls,  bats, 
ravens,  crows,  snakes,  wild  cats,  and  apes,  which  were 
always  looking  at  him,  but  somehow  made  way,  retreat- 
ing before  him,  and  yet  forming  again,  and  in  order, 
as  he  marched  along. 

He  had  passed  through  the  wing  of  the  forest  which 
he  entered,  and  penetrated  into  the  more  mountainous 
country.  He  ascended  the  heights ;  he  was  a  taller, 
stronger  man  than  he  had  been;  he  went  forward  with 
a  preternatural  vigour,  and  flourished  his  arms  with 
the  excitement  of  some  vinous  or  gaseous  intoxication. 
He  heard  the  roar  of  the  wild  beasts  echoed  along  the 
woody  ravines  which  were  cut  into  the  solid  mountain 
rock,  with  a  reckless  feeling,  as  if  he  could  cope  with 
them.  As  he  passed  the  dens  of  the  lion,  leopard,  hyena, 
jackal,  wild  boar,  and  wolf,  there  he  saw  them  sitting 
at  the  entrance,  or  stopping  suddenly  as  they  prowled 
along,  and  eyeing  him,  but  not  daring  to  approach. 
He  strode  along  from  rock  to  rock,  and  over  precipices, 
with  the  certainty  and  ease  of  some  giant  in  Eastern 
fable.  Suddenly  a  beast  of  prey  came  across  him ;  in 
a  moment  he  had  torn  up  by  the  roots  the  stump  of  a 
wild  vine  plant,  which  was  near  him,  had  thrown 
himself  upon  his  foe  before  it  could  act  on  the  aggres- 
fiive,  had  flung  it  upon  its  back,  forced  the  weapon 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUEY.     209 

into  its  mouth,  and  was  stamping  on  its  chest.  He 
knocked  the  life  out  of  the  furious  animal ;  and  crying 
"  Take  that  "  tore  its  flesh,  and,  applying  his  mouth  to 
the  wound,  sucked  a  draught  of  its  blood. 

He  has  passed  over  the  mountain,  and  has  descended 
its  side.  Bristling  shrubs,  swamps,  precipitous  banks, 
rushing  torrents,  are  no  obstacle  to  his  course.  He 
has  reached  the  brow  of  a  hill,  with  a  deep  placid 
river  at  the  foot  of  it,  just  as  the  dawn  begins  to  break. 
It  is  a  lovely  prospect,  which  every  step  he  takes  is 
becoming  more  definite  and  more  various  in  the  day- 
light. Masses  of  oliander,  of  great  beauty,  with  their 
red  blossoms,  fringed  the  river,  and  tracked  out  its 
course  into  the  distance.  The  bank  of  the  hill  below 
him,  and  on  the  right  and  left,  was  a  maze  of  fruit 
trees,  about  which  nature,  if  it  were  not  the  hand  of 
man,  had  had  no  thought  except  that  they  should  be 
all  together  there.  The  wild  olive,  the  pomegranate, 
the  citron,  the  date,  the  mulberry,  the  peach,  the  apple, 
and  the  walnut,  formed  a  sort  of  spontaneous  orchard. 
Across  the  water  groves  of  palm  trees  waved  their  long 
and  graceful  branches  in  the  morning  breeze.  The 
stately  and  solemn  ilex,  marshalled  into  long  avenues, 
showed  the  way  to  substantial  granges  or  luxurious 
villas.  The  green  turf  or  grass  was  spread  out  be- 
neath, and  here  and  there  flocks  and  herds  were 
emerging  out  of  the  twilight  and  growing  distinct 
upon  the  eye.  Elsewhere  the  ground  rose  up  into 
sudden  eminences  crowned  with'  chesnut  woods,  or 
with  plantations  of  cedar  and  acacia,  or  wildernesses  of 
the  cork  tree,  the  turpentine,  the  carooba,  the  white 
poplar,  and  the  Phenician  juniper,  while  over  head 
ascended  the  clinging  tendrils  of  the  hop,  and  an 
underwood  of  myrtle  clothed  their  stems  and  roots.  A 
profusion  of  wild  flowers  carpeted  the  ground  far  and 
near. 

Juba  stood  and  gazed  till  the  sun  rose  opposite  to 
him,  envying,  repining,  hating,  like  Satan  looking  in 
upon  Paradise.     The  wild  mountains,  or  the  locust- 

P 


210  CALLISTA  ; 

smitten  tract  would  have  better  suited  tlie  tumult  of 
his  mind.  It  would  have  been  a  relief  to  him  to  have 
retreated  from  so  fair  a  scene,  and  to  have  retraced 
his  steps,  but  he  was  not  his  own  master,  and  was 
hurried  on.  Sorely  against  his  determined  strong 
resolve  and  will,  crying  out  and  protesting  and  shud- 
dering, the  youth  was  forced  along  into  the  fulness  of 
beauty  and  blessing  with  which  he  was  so  little  in 
tune.  With  rage  and  terror  he  recognized  that  he 
had  no  part  in  his  own  movements,  but  was  a  mere 
slave.  In  spite  of  himself  he  must  go  forward  and 
behold  a  peace  and  sweetness  which  witnessed 
against  him.  He  dashed  down  through  the  thick 
grass,  plunged  into  the  water,  and  without  rest  or 
respite  began  a  second  course  of  aimless  toil  and 
travail  through  the  day. 

The  savage  dogs  of  the  villages  howled  and  fled 
from  him  as  he  passed  by  ;  beasts  of  burden,  on  their 
way  to  market,  which  he  overtook  or  met,  stood  still, 
foamed  and  trembled  ;  the  bright  birds,  the  blue  jay 
and  golden  oriole,  hid  themselves  under  the  leaves  and 
grass ;  the  storks,  a  religious  and  domestic  bird, 
stopped  their  sharp  clattering  note  from  the  high  tree 
or  farmhouse  turret,  where  they  had  placed  their 
nests  ;  the  very  reptiles  skulked  away  from  his  shadow, 
as  if  it  were  poisonous.  The  boors  who  were  at  their 
labour  in  the  fields  suspended  it  to  look  at  one  whom 
the  Furies  were  lashing  and  whirling  on.  Hour  passed 
after  liour, the  sun  attained  its  zenith,  and  then  declined, 
but  this  dreadful  compulsory  race  continued.  O  what 
would  he  have  given  for  one  five  minutes  of  oblivion, 
of  slumber,  of  relief  from  the  burning  thirst  which 
now  consumed  him  !  but  the  master  within  him  ruled 
his  muscles  and  his  joints,  and  the  intense  pain  of 
weariness  had  no  concomitant  of  prostration  of 
strength.  Suddenly  he  began  to  laugh  hideously  ; 
and  he  went  forward  dancins:  and  sin^ins:  loud,  and 
playing  antics.  He  entered  a  hovel,  made  faces  at  the 
children,  till  one  of  them  fell  into  convulsions,  and  he 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     211 

ran  away  with  anotber;  and,  when  some  country 
people  pursued  him,  he  flung  the  chikl  in  their  faces, 
saying,  "  Take  that,"  and  said  he  was  Pentheus,  Kin^ 
of  Thebes,  of  whom  he  had  never  heard,  about  to  so- 
lemnize the  orgies  of  Bacchus,  and  he  began  to  spout 
a  chorus  of  Grreek,  a  language  he  had  never  learnt  or 
heard  spoken. 

Now  it  is  evening  again,  and  he  has  come  up  to  a 
village  grove,  where  the  rustics  were  holding  a  feast  in 
honour  of  Pan.  The  hideous  brutal  god,  with  yawning 
mouth,  horned  head,  and  goat's  feet,  was  placed  in  a 
rude  shed,  and  a  slaughtered  lamb,  decked  with  flowers, 
lay  at  his  feet.  The  peasants  were  frisking  before 
him,  boys  and  women,  when  they  were  startled  by  the 
sight  of  a  gaunt,  wild,  mysterious  figure,  which  began 
to  dance  too.  He  flung  and  capered  about  with  such 
vigour  that  they  ceased  their  sport  to  look  on,  half 
with  awe  and  half  as  a  diversion.  Suddenly  he  began 
to  groan  and  to  shriek,  as  if  contending  with  himself, 
and  willing  and  not  wilhng  some  new  act;  and  the 
struggle  ended  in  his  falling  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
and  crawling  like  a  quadruped  towards  the  idol.  AVhen 
he  got  near,  his  attitude  was  still  more  servile ;  still 
groaning  and  shuddering,  he  laid  himself  flat  on  the 
ground,  and  wriggled  to  the  idol  as  a  worm,  and 
lapped  up  with  his  tongue  the  mingled  blood  and  dust 
which  lay  about  the  sacrifice.  And  then  again,  as  if 
nature  had  successfully  asserted  her  own  dignity,  he 
jumped  up  high  in  the  air,  and,  falling  on  the  god, 
broke  him  to  pieces,  and  scampered  away  out  of  pur- 
suit, before  the  lookers-on  recovered  from  the  surprise. 

Another  restless,  fearful  night  amid  the  open  coun- 
try ;  .  .  .  but  it  seemed  as  if  the  worst  had  passed,  and, 
though  still  under  the  heavy  chastisement  of  his  pride, 
there  was  more  in  Juba  of  human  action  and  of 
eflectual  will.  The  day  broke  and  he  found  himself 
on  the  road  to  Sicca.  The  beautiful  outline  of  the 
city  v.-as  riglit  before  him.  He  passed  his  brother's 
cottage  and  garden ;  it  was  a  wreck.  The  trees  torn 
p2 


212  CALLISTA  ; 

up,  the  fences  broken  down,  and  tlie  room  pillaged  of 
the  little  that  could  be  found  there.  He  went  on  to 
the  city,  crying  out  Agellius ;  the  gate  was  open,  and 
he  entered.  He  went  on  to  the  Forum  ;  he  crossed  to 
the  house  of  Jucundus  ;  few  people  as  yet  were  stirring 
in  the  place.  He  looked  up  at  the  wall.  Suddenly, 
by  the  help  of  projections  and  other  irregularities  of 
the  brick-work,  he  mounted  up  upon  the  flat  roof,  and 
dropped  down,  along  the  tiles,  through  the  impluvium 
into  the  middle  of  the  house.  He  went  softly  into 
Agellius's  closet,  where  he  was  asleep,  he  roused  him 
with  the  name  of  Cailista,  threw  his  tunic  upon  him, 
which  was  by  his  side,  put  his  boots  into  his  hands,  and 
silently  beckoned  him  to  follow  him.  When  he  hesi- 
tated, he  still  whispered  to  him  Cailista,  and  at  length 
seized  him  and  led  him  on.  He  unbarred  the  street 
door,  and  with  a  movement  of  his  arm,  more  lilve  a 
blow  than  a  farewell,  thrust  him  into  the  street. 
Then  he  barred  again  the  door  upon  him,  and  lay 
down  himself  upon  the  bed  which  Agellius  had  left. 
His  good  angel,  we  may  suppose,  had  gained  a  point 
in  his  favour,  for  he  lay  quiet  and  fell  into  a  heavy 
sleep. 


A  SKETCH  OI'  THE  THIED  CENTUEX.     213 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"We  are  in  hopes  the  reader,  as  well  as  Agellius,  is 
attracted  by  the  word  Callista,  and  wishes  to  know 
something  about  her  fate  ;  nay,  perhaps  finds  fault 
with  us  as  having  suffered  him  so  long  to  content 
himself  with  the  chance  and  secondhand  information 
which  Jucundus  or  Juba  has  supplied.  If  we  have 
been  wanting  in  due  consideration  for  him,  we  now 
trust  to  make  up  for  it. 

When  Callista  then  had  so  boldly  left  the  cottage  to 
stop  the  intruders,  she  had  in  one  important  point 
reckoned  without  her  host.  She  spoke  Latin  fluently 
herself,  and  could  converse  with  the  townspeople, 
most  of  whom  could  do  the  same ;  but  it  was  other- 
wise with  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  numbers  of 
whom,  as  we  have  said,  were  in  Sicca  on  the  day  of  the 
outbreak.  The  two  fellows,  whom  she  went  out  to  with- 
stand, knew  neither  her  nor  the  Latin  tongue.  They 
were  of  a  race  which  called  itself  Canaanite,  and  really 
was  so  ;  huge,  gigantic  men,  who  looked  like  the  sons 
of  Euac,  described  in  Holy  AVrit.  They  knew  no- 
thing of  roads  or  fences,  and  had  scrambled  up  the 
hill  Jis  they  could,  the  shortest  way,  and,  being  free 
from  the  crowd,  with  far  more  expedition  than  had 
they  followed  the  beaten  track.  She  and  they  could 
not  understand  each  other's  speech ;  but  her  appear- 
ance spoke  for  her,  and  in  consequence  they  seized  on 
her,  as  their  share  of  the  booty,  and  without  more  ado, 


214  CALLISTA ; 

carried  her  off  toTvards  Sicca.  As  they  came  up  by 
their  own  route,  so  they  returned,  and  entered  the 
city  by  a  gate  more  to  the  south,  not  the  Septimian; 
a  happy  circumstance,  as  otherwise  she  would  have 
stood  every  chance  of  being  destroyed  in  that  whole- 
sale massacre  which  the  soldiery  inflicted  on  the  crowd 
as  it  returned. 

These  giants  then  got  possession  of  Callista,  and  she 
entered  Sicca  upon  the  shoulder  of  one  of  them,  who 
danced  in  with  no  greater  inconvenience  than  if  he 
was  carrying  on  it  a  basket  of  flowers,  or  a  box  of  milli- 
nery. Here  the  party  met  with  the  city  police  who 
were  stationed  at  the  gate. 

"  Down  with  your  live  luggage,  you  rascals,"  they 
said,  in  their  harsh  Punic  ;  "  what  have  you  to  do  with 
plunder  of  this  kind  ?  and  how  came  you  by  her  ?  " 

"  She's  one  of  those  Christian  rats,  your  worship," 
answered  the  fellow,  who,  strong  as  he  was,  did  not 
relish  a  contest  Mith  some  dozen  of  armed  men. 
"  Long  live  the  Emperor !  AVe'll  teach  her  to  eat 
asses'  heads  another  time,  and  brew  fevers.  I  found 
her  with  a  party  of  Christians  She's  nothing  but  a 
witch,  and  she  knows  the  consequences." 

"  Let  her  go,  you  drunken  animal,"  said  the  con- 
stable, still  keeping  his  distance.  "  I'll  never  beheve 
any  woman  is  a  Christian,  let  alone  so  young  a  one. 
And  now  I  look  at  her,  as  far  as  I  can  see  by  this 
light,  I  think  she's  priestess  of  one  of  the  great 
temples  up  there." 

"  She  can  turn  herself  into  any  thing,"  said  the  other 
of  her  capturers,  "  young  or  old.  I  saw  her  one  night 
near  Madaura,  a  month  ago,  in  the  tombs,  in  the  shape 
of  a  black  cat." 

"  Away  with  you  both,  in  the  name  of  the  Suffetes  of 
Sicca,  and  all  the  magistracy,"  cried  the  official.  "  Grive 
up  your  prisoner  to  the  authorities  of  the  place,  and 
let  the  law  take  its  course." 

But  the  Canaanites  did  not  seem  disposed  to  give 
her  up,  and,  neither  party  liking  to  attack  the  other, 


A -SKETCH    OF    THE    THIRD    CENTUET.  215 

a  compromise  took  place.  "  "Well,"  said  the  guardian 
of  the  night,  "  the  law  must  be  vindicated,  and  the 
peace  preserved.  My  friends,  you  must  submit  to 
the  magistrates.  But,  since  she  happens  to  be  on 
your  shoulder,  my  man,  let  her  even  remain  there,  and 
we  depute  you,  as  a  beast  of  burden,  to  carry  her  for 
us,  thereby  to  save  us  the  trouble.  Here,  child,"  he 
continued,  "  you're  our  prisoner  ;  so  you  shall  plead 
your  own  cause  in  the  'poj)ina  there.  Long  live  Decius, 
pious  and  fortunate  !  Long  live  this  ancient  city, 
colony  and  municipium !  Cheer  up,  my  lass,  and 
siug  us  a  stave  or  two,  as  we  go ;  for  I'll  pledge  a 
cyatlius  of  unmixed,  that,  if  yon  choose,  you  can  warble 
notes  as  sweet  as  the  manna  gum." 

Callista  was  silent,  but  she  was  perfectly  collected, 
and  ready  to  avail  herself  of  any  opportunity  to  better 
her  condition.  They  went  on  towards  the  Forum, 
where  a  police-office,  as  we  now  speak,  was  situated, 
but  did  not  reach  it  without  an  adventure.  The 
Eoman  military  force  at  Sicca  was  not  more  than  a 
century  of  men ;  the  greater  number  were  at  this  mo- 
ment at  the  great  gate,  waiting  for  the  mob ;  a  few, 
in  parties  of  three  and  four,  were  patrolling  the  city. 
Several  of  these  were  at  the  entrauce  of  the  Forum 
when  the  party  came  up  to  it ;  and  it  happened  that  a 
superior  officer,  who  was  an  assistant  to  what  may  be 
called  the  military  resident  of  the  place,  a  young  man 
on  whom  much  of  the  duty  of  the  day  had  devolved, 
was  with  the  soldiers.  She  had  known  him  as  a  friend 
of  her  brother's,  and  recognized  him  in  the  gloom,  and 
at  ©nee  took  advantage  of  the  meeting. 

"Help,"  she  said,  "gentlemen!  help,  Calphurnius! 
these  rascals  are  carrying  me  off  to  some  den  of  their 
own." 

The  tribune  at  once  knew  her  voice.  "What,"  he 
cried,  with  great  astonishment,  "what,  my  pretty 
Greek!  You  most  base,  infamous,  and  unmannerly 
scoundrels,  down  with  her  this  instant.  What  have 
you  to  do  with  that  young  lady  ?     Tou  villains,  unless 


216  CALLISTA; 

you  would  have  me  crack  jour  African  skulls  witli  the 
hilt  of  my  sword,  down  with  her,  I  say." 

There  was  no  resisting  a  Eoman  voice,  but  prompt 
obedience  is  a  rarity,  and  the  ruffians  began  to  parley. 
"My  noble  master,"  said  the  constable,  "she's  our 
prisoner.  Jove  preserve  you,  and  Bacchus  and  Ceres 
bless  you,  my  lord  tribune !  and  long  life  to  the  Em- 
peror Decius  in  these  bad  times.  But  she  is  a  rioter, 
my  lord,  one  of  the  ringleaders,  and  a  Christian  and  a 
witch  to  boot." 

"  Cease  your  vile  gutturals,  you  animal,"  cried  the 
officer,  "  or  I  will  ram  them  down  your  throat  with  my 
pike  to  digest  them.  Put  down  the  lady,  beast.  Are 
you  thinking  twice  about  it  ?  G-o,  Lucius,"  he  said 
to  a  private,  "  kick  him  away,  and  bring  the  woman 
here." 

Callista  was  surrendered ;  but  the  fellow,  sullen  at 
the  usage  he  had  met  with,  and  spiteful  against  Cal- 
phurnius,  as  the  cause  of  it,  cried  out  maliciously, 
"  Mind  what  you  are  at,  noble  sir,  it's  not  our  affair ; 
you  can  fry  your  own  garlic.  But  an  Emperor  is  an 
Emperor,  and  an  Edict  is  an  Edict,  and  a  Christian  is 
a  Christian ;  and  I  don't  know  what  high  places  will 
say  to  it,  but  it's  your  affair.  Take  notice,"  he  con- 
tinued, raising  his  voice  still  higher,  as  he  got  to  a 
safer  distance,  that  the  soldiers  might  hear,  "  yon  girl 
is  a  Christian  priestess,  caught  in  a  Christian  assem- 
bly sacrificing  asses  and  eating  children  for  the  over- 
throw of  the  Emperor,  and  the  ruin  of  his  loyal  city 
of  Sicca,  and  I  have  been  interrupted  in  the  discharge 
of  my  duty — I,  a  constable  of  the  place.  See  whether 
Calphurnius  will  not  bring  again  upon  us  the  plague, 
the  murrain,  the  locusts,  and  all  manner  of  larvcd  and 
manicB  before  the  end  of  the  story." 

This  speech  perplexed  Calphurnius,  as  it  was  in- 
tended. It  was  impossible  he  could  dispose  of  Callista 
as  he  wished,  with  such  a  charge  formally  uttered  in 
the  presence  of  his  men.  He  knew  how  serious  the 
question  of  Christianity  was  at  that  moment,  and  how 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     217 

determined  the  Imperial  Government  was  on  the 
eradication  of  its  professors ;  he  was  a  good  soldier, 
devoted  to  head-quarters,  and  had  no  wish  to  compro- 
mise himself  with  his  superiors,  or  to  give  bystanders 
an  advantage  over  him,  by  setting  a  prisoner  at  liberty 
without  inquiry,  who  had  been  taken  in  a  Christian's 
house.  He  muttered  an  oath,  and  said  to  the  sol- 
diers, "  Well,  my  lads,  to  the  Triumviri  with  her, 
since  it  must  be  so.  Cheer  up,  my  star  of  the  morn- 
ing, bright  beam  of  Hellas,  it  is  only  as  a  matter  of 
form,  and  you  will  be  set  at  liberty  as  soon  as  they 
look  on  you."  And  with  these  words  he  led  the  way 
to  the  Officium. 

But  the  presiding  genius  of  the  Officium  was  less 
accommodating  than  he  had  anticipated.  It  might  be 
he  was  jealous  of  the  soldiery,  or  of  their  particular 
interference,  or  indignant  at  the  butchery  at  the  great 
gate,  of  which  the  news  had  just  come,  or  out  of 
humour  with  the  day,  and  especially  with  the  Chris- 
tians ;  at  any  rate,  Calphurnius  found  he  had  better 
have  taken  a  bolder  step,  and  have  carried  her  as  a 
prisoner  to  the  camp.  However,  nothing  was  now  left 
for  him  but  to  depart ;  and  Callista  fell  again  into  the 
hands  of  the  city,  though  of  the  superior  functionaries, 
who  procured  her  a  lodging  for  the  night,  and  settled 
to  bring  her  up  for  examination  next  morning. 

The  morning  came,  and  she  was  had  up.  "What 
passed  did  not  transpire  ;  but  the  issue  was  that  she 
was  remanded  for  a  further  hearing,  and  was  told  she 
might  send  to  her  brother  and  acquaint  him  where  she 
was.  He  was  allowed  one  interview  with  her,  and  he 
came  away,  almost  out  of  his  senses,  saying  she  was 
bewitched,  and  fancied  herself  a  Christian.  What 
precisely  she  had  said  to  him,  which  gave  this  impres- 
sion, he  could  hardly  say ;  but  it  was  plain  there  must 
be  something  wrong,  or  there  would  not  be  that 
public  process  and  formal  examination  which  was 
fixed  for  the  third  day  afterwards. 


218  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTEE  XXY. 

"Weee  the  origin  of  Juba's  madness  (or  whatever  the 
world  would  call  it)  of  a  character  which  admitted  of 
light  writing  about  it,  much  might  be  said  on  the 
surprise  of  the  clear-headed,  narrow-minded,  positive, 
and  easy-going  Jucundus,  when  he  found  one  nephew 
substituted  for  another,  and  had  to  give  over  his 
wonder  at  Agellius,  in  order  to  commence  a  series  of 
acts  of  amazement  and  consternation  at  Juba.  He 
summoned  Jupiter  and  Juno,  Bacchus,  Ceres,  Po- 
mona, Neptune,  Mercury,  Minerva,  and  great  E-ome, 
to  witness  the  marvellous  occurrence ;  and  then  he 
had  recourse  to  the  infernal  gods,  Pluto  and  Proser- 
pine, down  to  Cerberus,  if  he  be  one  of  them  ;  but 
after  all,  there  the  portent  was,  in  spite  of  all  the 
deities  which  Olympus,  or  Arcadia,  or  Latium  ever 
bred  :  and  at  length  it  had  a  nervous  effect  upon  the  old 
gentleman's  system,  and,  for  the  first  evening  after  it, 
he  put  all  his  good  things  from  him,  and  went  to  bed 
supperless  and  songless. 

What  had  been  Juba's  motive  in  the  exploit  which 
so  unpleasantly  affected  his  uncle,  it  is  of  course  quite 
impossible  to  say.  Whether  his  mention  of  Callista's 
name  was  intended  to  be  for  the  benefit  of  her  soul, 
or  the  ruin  of  Agellius's,  must  be  left  in  the  obscurity 
in  which  the  above  narrative  presents  it  to  us ;  so  far 
alone  is  certain,  though  it  does  not  seem  to  throw 
light  on  the  question,  that,  on  his  leaving  his  uncle's 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     219 

house  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon,  which  he  did, 
without  being  pressed  to  stay,  he  was  discovered 
prancing  and  gesticulating  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Callista's  prison,  so  as  to  excite  the  attention  of  the 
apparitor,  or  constable,  who  guarded  the  entrance,  and 
who,  alarmed  at  his  wildness,  sent  for  some  of  his 
fellows,  and,  with  their  assistance,  repelled  the  in- 
truder, who  thereupon  scudding  out  at  the  eastern 
gate,  was  soon  lost  in  the  passes  of  the  mountain. 

To  one  thing,  however,  we  may  pledge  ourselves, 
that  Juba  had  no  intention  of  shaking,  even  for  one 
evening,  the  nerves  of  Jucundus  ;  yet  shaken  they  were 
till  about  the  same  time  twenty-four  hours  afterwards. 
And  when  in  that  depressed  state,  he  saw  nothing 
but  misery  on  all  sides  of  him.  Juba  was  lost ; 
Agellius  worse.  Of  course  he  had  joined  himself  to 
his  sect,  and  he  should  never  see  him  again;  and 
how  should  he  ever  hold  up  his  head  ?  Well !  he 
only  hoped  Agellius  would  not  be  boiled  in  a  caldron, 
or  roasted  at  a  slow  fire.  If  this  were  done,  he  posi- 
tively must  leave  Sicca,  and  the  most  thriving  trade 
which  any  man  had  in  the  whole  of  the  Proconsulate. 
And  then  that  little  Callista!  Ah! — what  a  real 
calamity  was  there  !  Any  how  he  had  lost  her,  and 
what  should  he  do  for  a  finisher  of  his  fine  work  in 
marble,  or  metal  ?  She  was  a  treasure  in  herself. 
Altogether  the  heavens  were  very  dark ;  and  it  was 
scarcely  possible  for  any  one  who  knew  well  his  jovial 
cast  of  countenance,  to  keep  from  laughing,  whatever 
his  real  sympathy,  at  the  unusual  length  and  blankness 
which  was  suddenly  imposed  upon  it. 

While  he  sat  thus  at  his  shop  window,  which,  as  it 
were,  framed  him  for  the  contemplation  of  passers-by, 
on  the  day  of  the  escape  of  Agellius,  and  the  day 
before  Callista's  public  examination,  Aristo  rushed  in 
upon  him  in  a  state  of  far  more  passionate,  and  more 
reasonable  grief.  He  had  called,  indeed,  the  day 
before,  but  he  found  a  pleasure  in  expending  his 
distress  upon  others,  and  he  came  to  get  rid  of  its  insup- 
portable weight  by  discharging  it  in  a  torrent  of  tears 


220  CALLISTA ; 

and  exclamations.  However,  at  first  the  words  of  both 
"moved  slow,"  as  the  poet  says,  and  went  oft'  in  a 
sort  of  dropping  fire.      . 

"  Well,"  said  Jucundus,  in  a  depressed  tone  ;  "  he's 
not  come  to  you^  of  course  ?" 

"Who?" 

"Agellius." 

"O!  Agellius!  No,  he's  not  with  me."  Then, 
after  a  pause,  Aristo  added,  "  Why  should  he  be  ?" 

"  O  !  I  don't  know.  I  thought  he  might  be.  He's 
been  gone  since  early  niorning." 

"Indeed!  No,  I  don't  know  where  he  is.  How 
came  he  with  you  ?  " 

"I  told  you  yesterday ;  but  you  have  forgotten. 
I  was  sheltering  him :  but  he's  gone  for  ever." 

"Indeed!" 

"And  his  brother's  mad ! — horribly  mad  ! "  and  he 
slapped  his  hand  against  his  thigh. 

"I  always  thought  it,"  answered  Aristo. 

"  Did  you  ?  Yes,  so  it  is  ...  .  but  it's  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  ever  was.  The  furies  have  got 
hold  of  him  with  a  vengeance !  He's  frantic  !  Two 
boys,  both  mad !     It's  all  the  father  !  " 

"  I  thought  you'd  like  to  hear  something  about 
dear,  sweet  Callista,"  said  her  brother. 

"  Yes,  I  should  indeed  !"  answered  Jucundus.  "By 
Esculapius  !    they're  all  mad  together  !" 

"  Well,  it  is  like  madness  !  "  cried  Aristo,  with  great 
vehemence. 

"The  world's  going  mad!"  answered  Jucundus, 
who  was  picking  up,  since  he  began  to  talk,  an  exercise 
which  was  decidedly  good  for  him.  "  AVe  are  all 
going  mad !  I  shall  get  crazed.  The  townspeople  are 
crazed  already.  What  an  abominable,  brutal  piece  of 
business  was  that  three  days  ago !  I  put  up  my  shut- 
ters. Did  it  come  near  you  ? — all  on  account  of  one 
or  two  beggarly  Christians,  and  my  poor  boy.  What 
harm  could  two  or  three,  toads  and  vipers  though  they 
be,  do  here  ?  They  might  have  been  trodden  down 
easily.    It's   another  thing  at  Carthage.     Catch  the 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     221 

ringleaders,  I  say  ;  make  examples.  The  foxes  escape, 
and  our  poor  ganders  sutler !" 

Aristo,  pierced  with  his  own  misery,  had  no  heart 
or  head  to  enter  into  the  semi-political  ideas  of  Ju- 
cundus,  who  continued  : — 

*'  Yes,  it's  no  good.  The  empire's  coming  to  pieces, 
mark  my  words  !  I  told  you  so,  if  those  beasts  were 
let  alone.  They  liave  been  let  alone.  Eemedies  are 
too  late.  Decius  will  do  no  good.  No  one's  safe! 
Farewell,  my  friends !  I  am  going.  Like  poor  dear 
Callista,  I  shall  be  in  prison,  and,  like  her,  find  myself 
dumb  !  ....  Ah !  Callista  ....  how  did  you  find 
her?" 

"Oh!  —  dear,  sweet,  suffering  girl!"  cried  her 
brother. 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  answered  Jucundus  ;  "  yes  ! "  medi- 
tatively. "  She  is  a  dear,  sweet,  suffering  girl !  I 
thought  he  might  perhaps  have  taken  her  off: — that 
was  my  hope.  He  was  so  set  upon  hearing  where  she 
was,  whether  she  could  be  got  out.  It  struck  me  he 
had  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  her.  She  could 
do  any  thing  with  him.  And  she  loved  liim,  she  did! 
— I'm  convinced  of  it!— nothing  shall  convince  me 
otherwise  !  '  Bring  them  together,'  I  said,  '  and  they 
will  rush  into  each  other's  arms.'  But  they're  be- 
witched!— The  whole  world's  bewitched!  Mark  my 
words, — I  have  an  idea  who  is  at  the  bottom  of  this." 

"  0  !"  groaned  out  Aristo  ;  "  I  care  not  for  top  or 
bottom ! — I  care  not  for  the  whole  world,  or  for  any 
thing  at  all  but  Callista !  If  you  could  have  seen  the 
dear,  patient  sufferer!"  and  the  poor  fellow  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears. 

"Bear  up!  bear  up!"  said  Jucundus,  who  by  this 
time  was  considerably  better ;  "  show  yourself  a  man, 
my  dear  Aristo.  These  things  must  be  ; — they  are  the 
lot  of  human  nature.  You  remember  what  the  tra- 
gedian says  :  stay  !  no ! — its  the  comedian, — it's  Me- 
nander .  .  . 

"To   Orcus  and  Erebus  with  all  the  tragedy  and 


222  CALLISTA ; 

comedy  that  ever  was  spouted!"  exclaimed  Aristo. 
''  Can  you  do  nothing  for  me  ?  Can't  you  give  me  a 
crumb  of  consolation  or  sympathv,  encouragement  or 
suggestion  ?  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  country,  and  so 
is  this  dear  sister  of  mine,  whom  I  am  so  proud  of; 
and  who  has  been  so  good,  and  kind,  and  gentle,  and 
sweet.  She  loved  me  so  much,  she  never  grudged  me 
any  thing :  slie  let  me  do  just  what  I  would  with  her. 
Come  here,  go  there, — it  was  just  as  I  would.  There 
we  were,  two  orphans  together,  ten  years  since,  when 
I  was  double  her  age.  She  wished  to  stay  in  Greece ; 
but  she  came  to  this  detestable  Africa  all  for  mo. 
She  would  be  gay  and  bright  when  I  would  have  her 
so.  She  had  no  will  of  her  own ;  and  she  sat  her 
heart  upon  nothing ;  and  was  pleased  any  where.  She 
had  not  an  enemy  in  the  world.  I  protest  she  is  worth  all 
the  gods  and  goddesses  that  ever  were  hatched !  And 
here,  in  this  ill-omened  Africa,  the  evil  eye  has  looked 
at  her,  and  she  thinks  herself  a  Christian,  when  she  is 
just  as  much  a  hippogriff,  or  a  chimsera. 

"  Well,  but  Aristo,"  said  Jucundus,  "  I  was  going 
to  tell  you  who  is  at  the  bottom  of  it  all.  CalHsta's 
mad ;  Agellius  is  mad ;  Juba  is  mad  ;  and  Strabo  was 
mad;— but  it  was  his  wife,  old  Gurta,  that  drove  him 
mad;— and  there,  I  think,  is  the  beo^innino^  of  our 
troubles.  .  .  .  Come  in!  come  in,  Cornelius !"  he  cried, 
seeing  his  Eoman  friend  outside,  and  relapsing  for  the 
moment  into  his  lugubrious  tone  ;  "  Come  in,  Cor- 
nelius, and  give  us  some  comfort,  if  you  can.  Well ! 
this  is  like  a  friend  !  I  know  you  will  help  me,  if  you 
can." 

Cornelius  answered  that  he  was  going  back  to 
Carthage  in  a  day  or  two,  and  came  to  embrace 
him,  and  had  hoped  to  have  a  parting  supper  before 
he  went. 

"That's  kind!"  answered  Jucundus:  "but  first 
tell  me  all  about  this  dreadful  affair ;  for  you  are  in  the 
secrets  of  the  Capitol.  Have  they  any  clue  what  has 
become  of  my  poor  Agellius  ?  " 


A  SKETCH  OF  TUE  TUIED  CENTUET.     223 

Cornelius  had  not  heard  of  the  young  man's  trou- 
bles, and  was  full  of  consternation  at  the  news. 

"What!  Agellius  really  a  Christian?"  he  said, 
"  and  at  such  a  moment  ?  Why,  I  thought  you 
talked  of  some  young  lady  who  was  to  keep  him  in 
order?" 

"  She's  a  Christian,  too,"  replied  Jucundus ;  and  a 
silence  ensued.  "It's  a  bad  world!"  he  continued. 
"  She's  imprisoned  by  the  Triumviri.  AVhat  will  be 
the  end  of  it?" 

Cornelius  shook  his  head,  and  looked  mysterious. 

"  You  don't  mean  it  ?"  said  Jucundus.  "  Not  any- 
thing so  dreadful,  I  do  trust,  Cornelius.  Kot  the 
stake?" 

Cornelius  still  looked  gloomy  and  pompous. 

"Nothing  in  the  way  of  torture?"  he  went  on; 
"  not  the  rack,  or  the  pitchfork  ?" 

"  It's  a  bad  business,  on  your  own  showing,"  said 
Cornelius :  "  it's  a  bad  business  !" 

"Can  you  do  nothing  for  us,  Cornelius?"  cried 
Aristo.  "  The  great  people  in  Carthage  are  your 
friends.  O,  Cornelius!  I'd  do  any  thing  for  you! — 
I'd  be  your  slave !  She's  no  more  a  Christian  than 
great  Jove.  She  has  nothing  about  her  of  the  cut ; — 
not  a  shred  of  her  garment,  or  a  turn  of  her  hair. 
She's  a  G-reek  from  head  to  foot, — within  and  without. 
She's  as  bright  as  the  day  !  Ah !  we  have  no  friends 
here.  Dear  Callista !  you  will  be  lost,  because  you 
are  a  foreigner  ! "  and  the  passionate  youth  began  to 
tear  his  hair.  "  O,  Cornelius!"  he  continued,  "if 
you  can  do  any  thing  for  us  !  O  !  she  shall  sing  and 
dance  to  you ;  she  shall  come  and  kneel  down  to  you, 
and  embrace  your  knees,  and  kiss  your  feet,  as  I  do, 
Cornelius  !  "  and  he  knelt  down,  and  would  have  taken 
hold  of  Cornelius's  beard. 

Cornelius  had  never  been  addressed  with  so  poetical 
a  ceremonial,  which  nevertheless  he  received  with 
awkwardness  indeed,  but  with  satisfaction.  "  I  hear 
from  you,"  he  said  with  pomposity,  "that  your  aister 


224i  CALLTSTA ; 

is  in  prison  on  suspicion  of  Christianity.  The  case  is 
a  simple  one.  Let  her  swear  by  the  genius  of  the 
Emperor,  and  she  is  free ;  let  her  refuse  it,  and  the 
law  must  take  its  course,"  and  he  made  a  slight  bow. 

"Well,  but  she  is  under  a  delusion,"  persisted 
Aristo,  "  which  cannot  last  long.  She  says  distinctly 
that  she  is  not  a  Christian,  is  not  that  decisive  ?  but 
then  she  won't  burn  incense;  she  won't  swear  by 
E/Ome.  She  says  she  does  not  believe  in  Jupiter,  nor 
I ;  can  any  thing  be  more  senseless  ?  It  is  the  act  of 
a  mad  woman.  I  say,  '  My  girl,  the  question  is,  are 
you  to  be  brought  to  shame  ?  are  you  to  die  by  the 
public  sword  ?  die  in  torments  ?'  O,  I  shall  go  mad  as 
well  as  she  !  "  he  screamed  out.  "  She  was  so  clever, 
so  witty,  so  sprightly,  so  imaginative,  so  versatile ! 
why,  there's  nothing  she  couldn't  do.  She  could 
model,  paint,  play  on  the  lyre,  sing,  act.  She  could 
work  with  the  needle,  she  could  embroider.  She  made 
this  girdle  for  me.  It's  all  that  Agellius,  it's  Agellius. 
.  .  .  I  beg  your  pardon,  Jucundus  ;  but  it  is;"  and  he 
threw  himself  on  the  ground,  and  rolled  in  the  dust. 

"I  have  been  telling  our  young  friend,"  said  Ju- 
cundus to  Cornelius,  "  to  exert  self-control,  and  to 
recollect  Menander,  '  Ne  quid  nimis  \'  Grieving 
does  no  good,  but  these  young  fellows,  it's  no  use  at  all 
speaking  to  them.  Do  you  think  you  could  do  any 
thing  for  us,  Cornelius  ?  " 

"  AVliy,"  answered  Cornelius,  "  since  I  have  been 
here,  I  have  fallen  in  with  a  very  sensible  man,  and  a 
man  of  remarkably  sound  political  opinions.  He  has 
a  great  reputation,  he  is  called  Polemo,  and  is  one  of 
the  professors  at  the  Mercury.  He  seems  to  me  to 
go  to  the  root  of  these  subjects,  and  I'm  surprised 
how  well  we  agreed.  He's  a  Greek,  as  well  as  this 
young  gentleman's  sister.  I  should  recommend  him 
to  go  to  Polemo  ;  if  any  one  would  disabuse  her  mind, 
it  is  he." 

'  "  Moderation  in  all  things." 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     225 

"True,  true,"  cried  Aristo,  starting  up,  "but  no, 
you  can  do  it  better ;  you  have  power  with  the  go- 
vernment. The  Proconsul  will  listen  to  you.  The 
magistrates  here  are  afraid  oiliim ;  tlicy  don't  wish  to 
touch  the  poor  girl,  not  they.  But  there's  such  a 
noise  every  where,  and  so  much  ill-blood,  and  so  many 
spies  and  informers,  and  so  much  mistrust— but  why 
should  it  come  upon  Callista  ?  Why  should  slie 
be  a  sacrifice  ?  But  you'd  oblige  the  Duumvirs  as 
much  as  me,  in  getting  her  out  of  the  scrape.  But 
■what  good  would  it  do  if  they  tooh  her  dear  life  ? 
Only  get  us  the  respite  of  a  month;  the  delusion 
-would  vanish  in  a  mouth.  Get  two  months,  if  you 
can  ;  or  as  long  as  you  can,  you  know.  Perhaps  they 
would  let  us  steal  out  of  the  country,  and  no  one  the 
"wiser ;  and  no  harm  to  any  one.  It  was  a  bad  job  our 
coming  here." 

"  W"e  know  nothing  at  Eome  of  feelings,  and  inten- 
tions, and  motives,  and  distinctions,"  said  Cornelius ; 
"  and  we  know  nothing  of  understandings,  conniv- 
ances, and  evasions.  We  go  by  facts  :  Eome  goes  by 
facts.  The  question  is, — what  is  the  fact  ?  Does  she 
burn  incense,  or  does  she  not  ?  Does  she  worship  the 
ass,  or  does  she  not  ?  However,  we'll  see  what  can 
be  done."  And  so  he  went  on,  informing  the  pair  of 
mourners  that,  as  far  as  his  influence  extended,  he 
would  do  something  in  behalf  both  of  Agellius  and 
CaUista. 


226  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XXVI, 

The  sun  had  now  descended  the  last  time  before  the  so- 
lemn day  which  was  charged  with  the  fate  of  Callista, 
and  what  was  the  state  of  mind  of  one  who  excited  such 
keen  interest  in  the  narrow  circle  within  which  she 
was  known  ?  And  how  does  it  differ  from  what  it  was 
some  weeks  before,  when  Agellius  last  saw  her  ?  She 
would  have  been  unable  to  say  herself.  "  So  is  the 
kingdom  of  Grod :  as  if  a  man  should  cast  seed  into 
the  earth,  and  should  sleep  and  rise,  night  and  day, 
and  the  seed  should  spring  and  grow  up,  whilst  he 
knoweth  not."  She  might,  indeed,  have  been  able  after- 
wards, on  looking  back,  to  say  many  things  of  herself; 
and  she  would  have  recognized  that,  while  she  was  con- 
tinually differing  from  herself,  in  that  she  was  changing; 
yet  it  was  not  a  change  which  involved  contrariety, 
but  one  which  expanded  itself  in  (as  it  were)  con- 
centric circles,  and  only  fulfilled,  as  time  went  on,  the 
promise  of  its  beginning.  Every  day,  as  it  came,  was, 
so  to  say,  the  child  of  the  preceding,  the  parent  of  that 
which  followed;  and  the  end  to  which  she  tended 
could  not  get  beyond  the  aim  with  which  she  set  out. 
Yet,  had  she  been  asked,  at  the  time  of  which  we 
speak,  where  was  her  principle  and  consistency,  what 
was  her  logic,  or  whether  she  acted  on  reason,  or  on 
impulse,  or  on  feeling,  or  in  fancy,  or  on  passion  ?  she 
would  have  been  reduced  to  silence.       What  did  she 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  TniRD  CENTURY.     227 

know  about  herself,  but  that,  to  her  surprise,  the  more 
she  thought  over  what  she  heard  of  Christianity,  the 
more  she  was  drawn  to  it,  and  the  more  it  appr<#ed 
itself  to  her  whole  soul ;  and  the  more  it  seemed  to 
respond  to  all  her  needs  and  aspirations,  and  the  more 
intimate  was  her  presentiment  that  it  was  true  ?  Tlie 
longer  it  remained  on  her  mind  as  an  object,  the  more 
it  seemed  (unlike  the  mythology  or  the  philosophy 
of  her  country,  or  the  political  religion  of  Rome), 
to  have  an  external  reality  and  substance  which 
deprived  objections  to  it  of  their  power,  and  showed 
them  to  be  at  best  but  difficulties  and  perplexities. 

But  then  again,  if  she  had  been  asked,  what  was 
Christianity  ?  slie  would  have  been  puzzled  to  give  an 
answer.  She  would  have  been  able  to  mention  some  par- 
ticular trutlis  which  it  taught,  but  neither  to  give  their 
definite  and  distinct  shape,  nor  to  describe  the  mode  in 
which  they  were  realized.  She  would  have  said,  "  I  be- 
lieve what  has  been  told  me,  as  from  heaven,  by  Chione, 
Agellius,  and  Csecilius:"  and  it  was  clear  she  could 
say  nothing  else.  What  the  three  told  her  in 
common  and  in  concord,  was  at  once  the  measure  of 
her  creed,  and  the  ground  of  her  acceptance  of  it.  It 
was  that  wonderful  unity  of  sentiment  and  belief  in 
persons  so  dissimilar  from  each  other,  so  distinct  in 
their  circumstances,  so  independent  in  their  testi- 
mony, which  recommended  to  her  the  doctrine  which 
they  were  so  unanim.ous  in  teaching.  She  had  long 
given  up  any  belief  in  the  religion  of  her  country.  As 
to  philosophy,  it  dwelt  only  in  conjecture  and  opinion ; 
whereas  the  very  essence  of  religion  was,  as  she  felt,  a 
recognition  on  the  part  of  the  Object  of  it.  Re- 
ligion could  not  be  without  hope.  To  worship  a  being 
who  did  not  speak  to  us,  recognize  us,  love  us,  was  not 
religion.  It  might  be  a  duty,  it  might  be  a  merit ; 
but  her  instinctive  notion  of  religion  was  the  soul's 
response  to  a  God  who  had  taken  notice  of  the  soul. 
It  was  loving  intercourse,  or  it  was  a  name.  jN'ow  the 
three  witnesses  who  had  addressed  her  about  Chris- 


228  CALLISTA  ; 

tianitj,  had  each  of  them  made  it  to  consist  in  the 
intimate  Divine  Presence  in  the  heart.  It  way  the 
friindship  or  mutual  love  of  person  with  person. 
Here  was  the  very  teaching  which  already  was  so 
demanded  both  by  her  reason  and  her  heart,  which 
she  found  no  where  else ;  which  she  found  existing 
one  and  the  same  in  a  female  slave,  in  a  country 
youth,  in  a  learned  priest. 

This  was  the  broad  impression  which  they  made 
upon  her  mind.  When  she  turned  to  consider  more 
in  detail  what  it  was  they  taught,  or  what  was  implied 
in  that  idea  of  religion  which  so  much  approved  itself  to 
her,  she  understood  them  to  say,  that  the  Creator  of 
heaven  and  earth.  Almighty,  All-good,  clothed  in  all 
the  attributes  which  philosophy  gives  Him,  the  In- 
finite, had  loved  the  soul  of  man  so  much,  and  her 
soul  in  particular,  that  He  had  come  upon  earth  in 
the  form  of  a  man,  and  in  that  form  had  gone  through 
sufferings,  in  order  to  unite  all  souls  to  Him  :  that  He 
desired  to  love,  and  to  be  loved  ;  that  He  had  said  so ; 
that  He  had  called  on  man  to  love  Him,  and  did 
actually  bring  to  pass  this  loving  intercourse  of  Him 
and  man  in  those  souls  who  surrendered  themselves  to 
Him.  She  did  not  go  much  furtlier  than  this  ;  but  as 
much  as  this  was  before  her  mind  morning,  noon,  and 
night.  It  pleaded  in  her;  it  importuned  her ;  it  would 
not  be  rebuffed.  It  did  not  mind  her  moods,  or 
disgusts,  or  doubts,  or  denials,  or  dismissals;  but 
came  again  and  again.  It  rose  before  her,  in  spite  of 
the  contempt,  reproach,  and  persecution  which  the 
profession  of  it  involved.  It  smiled  upon  her;  it 
made  promises  to  her ;  it  opened  eternal  A'iews  to  her ; 
and  it  grew  upon  her  convictions  in  clearness  of  per- 
ception, in  congruity,  and  in  persuasiveness. 

Moreover,  the  more  she  thought  of  Chione,  of  Agel- 
lius,  and  of  CosciHus,  the  more  surely  did  she  discern 
tliat  this  teaching  wrought  in  them  a  something  which 
she  had  not.  They  had  about  them  a  simplicity,  a 
truthfulness,  a  decision,  an  elevation,  a  calmness,  and 


I 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY,     229 

a  sanctity  to  which  she  was  a  stranger,  which  spoke  to 
her  heart,  and  absolutely  overcame  her.  The  image 
of  Caecilius,  in  particular,  came  out  prominently  and 
eloquently  in  her  memory, — not  in  his  words  so  much, 
as  in  his  manner.  In  spite  of  what  she  had  injuriously 
said  to  him,  she  really  felt  drawn  to  worship  him,  as 
if  he  were  the  shrine  and  the  home  of  that  Presence 
to  which  he  bore  such  solemn  witness. 

O  the  change,  when,  as  if  in  punishment  for  her 
wild  words  against  him,  she  found  herself  actually  in 
the  hands  of  lawless  men,  who  were  as  far  below  her 
in  sentiment,  as  he  was  above  her !  O  the  change, 
wdien  she  was  dizzied  by  their  brutal  vociferations  and 
rapid  motion,  and  that  breath  and  atmosphere  of  evil 
which  steamed  up  from  the  rankness  of  their  im- 
piety !  0  the  thankfulness,  which  rose  up  in  her 
heart,  though  but  vaguely  directed  to  an  object,  when 
she  found  the  repose  and  quiet,  though  it  was  that 
of  a  prison !  for  young  as  she  was,  she  had  become 
tired  of  all  things  that  were  seen,  and  had  no  strong 
desire,  except  for  meditation  on  the  great  truths  she 
did  not  know. 

One  day  passes  and  then  another;  and  now  the 
morning  and  the  hour  is  come  when  she  must  appear 
before  the  magistrates  of  Sicca.  "With  dread,  with 
agitation,  she  looks  forward  to  the  moment.  She  has 
not  yet  a  peace  within.  Her  peace  is  the  stillness  of 
the  room  in  which  she  is  imprisoned.  She  knows  it 
will  pass  away,  when  she  leaves  it :  she  knows  that 
again  she  must  be  in  the  hands  of  cruel,  godless  men, 
with  whom  she  has  no  sympathy ;  but  she  has  no  stay 
whereon  to  lean  in  the  terrible  trial.  Her  brother 
comes  to  her:  he  affects  to  forget  her  perverseness 
or  delusion.  He  comes  to  her  with  a  smile,  and 
throws  his  arms  around  her;  and  Calhsta  repels, 
from  some  indescribable  feeling,  his  ardent  caress, 
as  if  she  were  no  longer  his.  He  has  come  to  ac- 
company her  to  court,  by  an  indulgence  which  he 
had  obtained;    to   support  her  there, — to  carry  her 


230  CALLISTA ; 

througb,  and  to  take  her  back  in  triumpK  home. 
My  sister, — why  that  strange,  piteous  look  upon  thy 
countenance  ? — why  that  paleness  of  thy  cheek  ? — 
why  that  whisper  of  thy  lips? — why  those  wistful, 
gentle  pleadings  of  thine  eyes?  Sweet  eyes,  aiid  lips, 
and  brow,  and  clieek,  in  which  I  have  ever  prided  my- 
self! Why  so  backward? — why  so  distant  and  un- 
friendly ?  Am  I  not  come  to  rescue  thee  from  a 
place  where  thou  never  shouldst  have  been  ? — where 
thou  ne'er  shalt  be  again  ?  Callista,  what  is  this 
mysterj^  ? — speak  ! 

Such  as  this  was  the  mute  expostulation  conveyed 
in  Aristo's  look,  and  in  the  fond  grasp  of  his  hand, 
while  treading  down  forcibly  within  him  his  memory 
and  his  fears  of  her  change  of  mind,  he  determined  she 
should  be  to  him  still  all  that  she  had  ever  been.  And 
what  came  upon  that  look  and  that  grasp  when  she  at 
length  gave  utterance  to  the  mysterious  meaning  of  her 
face,  and  said  to  him,  in  agitation,  "  My  time  is  short :  I 
Mant  some  Christian,  a  Christian  priest  ?" 

It  was  as  though  she  had  never  shown  any  ten- 
dency before  to  the  proscribed  religion.  The  words 
came  to  him  with  the  intensity  of  something  new  and 
unimagined  before.  He  clasped  his  hands  in  emotion, 
turned  white,  and  could  but  say,  "Callista!"  If 
she  had  made  confession  of  the  most  heinous  of 
crimes, — if  she  had  spoken  of  murder,  of  some  black 
treachery  against  himself, — of  some  enormity  too  great 
for  words,  it  might  have  been;  but  his  sister!  — his 
pride  and  delight,  after  all  and  certainly  a  Chris^tian ! 
Better  far  had  she  said  she  was  leaving  him  for  ever, — 
to  abandon  herself  to  the  service  of  the  temples  ;  better 
had  she  said  she  had  taken  hemlock,  or  had  an  asp  in 
her  bosom,  than  that  she  should  choose  to  go  out  of 
the  world  with  the  tortures,  the  ignominy,  the  male- 
diction of  the  religion  of  slaves  ! 

Time  waits  for  no  man,  nor  does  the  court  of  justice, 
nor  the  suhsellia  of  the  magistrate.  The  examination 
is  to  be  held  in  the  Basilica  at  the  Torum,  and  it 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THTED  CENTURY.     231 

requires  from  us  a  few  words  of  explanation  beforehand. 
The  local  magistrates  then  could  only  try  the  lesser  of- 
fences, and  decide  civil  suits  ;  cases  of  suspected  Chris- 
tianity were  reserved  for  the  Eoman  authorities.  Still 
preliminary  examinations  were  not  unfrequently  con- 
ducted by  the  city  Duumvirs,  or  even  in  what  may  be 
called  the  police  courts.  And  this  may  have  especially 
been  the  case  in  the  Proconsulates.  Proprietors  and 
Presidents  were  in  the  appointment  of  the  Emperor, 
and  joined  in  their  persons  the  supreme  civil  and 
military  authority.  Such  provinces,  perhaps,  were 
better  administered ;  but  there  would  be  more  of 
arbitrariness  in  their  rule,  and  it  would  not  be  so 
acceptable  to  the  ruled.  The  Proconsuls,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  representatives  of  the  Senate,  and 
had  not  the  military  force  directly  in  their  hands. 
The  natural  tendency  of  this  arrangement  was  to 
create,  on  the  one  hand,  a  rivalry  between  the  civil 
and  military  establishments ;  and  on  the  other,  to 
create  a  friendly  feeling  between  the  Proconsul  and 
the  local  magistracy.  Thus,  not  long  before  the  date 
of  this  history,  we  read  of  Gordian,  the  Proconsul, 
enjoying  a  remarkable  popularity  in  his  African  pro- 
vince ;  and  when  the  people  rose  against  the  exactions 
of  the  imperial  Procurator,  as  alluded  to  in  a  former 
page,  they  chose  and  supported  Gordian  against 
him.  But,  however  this  might  be  in  general,  so  it 
was  at  this  time  at  Sicca,  that  the  Proconsular  OJflciiim 
and  the  city  magistrates  were  on  a  good  understanding, 
whereas  there  was  some  collision  between  the  latter 
and  the  military,  Not  much  depends  in  the  conduct 
of  our  story  upon  this  circumstance ;  but  it  must  be 
taken  to  account  for  the  examination  of  Callista  in  the 
Forum,  and  for  some  other  details  which  may  follow, 
before  we  come  to  the  end  of  it. 

The  populace  was  collected  about  the  gates  and 
within  the  ample  space  of  the  Basilica,  but  they  gave 
expression  to  no  strong  feeling  on  the  subject  of  a 
Christian  delinquent.     The  famii;e,  the  sickness,  and, 


232        ^  CALLISTA ; 

above  all,  the  lesson  which  they  had  received  so  lately 
from  the  soldiers,  had  both  diminished  their  numbers 
and  cowed  their  spirits.  They  were  sullen  too,  and 
resentful;  and,  with  the  changeableness  proverbial  in 
a  multitude,  had  rather  have  witnessed  the  beheading 
of  a  magistrate,  or  the  burning  of  a  tribune,  than  the 
torture  and  death  of  a  dozen  of' wretched  Christians. 
Besides,  they  had  had  a  glut  of  Christian  blood  ;  a 
reaction  of  feeling  had  taken  place,  and,  in  spite  of 
the  suspicion  of  witchcraft,  the  youth  and  the  beauty 
of  Callista  recommended  her  to  their  compassion. 

The  magistrates  were  seated  on  the  suhsellia,  one  of 
the  Duumvirs  presiding,  in  his  white  robe  bordered 
with  purple  ;  his  lictors,  with  staves,  not  fasces,  stand- 
ing behind  him.  In  the  entrance  of  the  court,  to 
confront  the  prisoner  on  her  first  entrance,  were  the 
usual  instruments  of  torture.  The  charge  was  one 
which  can  only  be  compared,  in  the  estimation  of  both 
state  and  people  in  that  day,  to  that  of  witchcraft, 
poisoning,  parricide,  or  other  monstrous  iniquity  in 
Christian  times.  There  were  the  heavy  hoice,  a  yoke 
for  the  neck,  of  iron,  or  of  wood ;  the  fetters  ;  the 
oiervi,  or  stocks,  in  which  hands  and  feet  were  inserted, 
at  distances  from  each  other  which  strained  or  dislo- 
cated the  joints.  There  too  were  the  virgcs,  or  rods 
with  thorns  in  them  ;  the  flagra,  Jori,  and  pJumhati, 
whips  and  thongs,  cutting  with  iron  or  bruising  with 
lead ;  the  heavy  clubs  ;  the  hook  for  digging  into  the 
flesh  ;  the  ungula,  said  to  have  been  a  pair  of  scissors ; 
the  scovpio  and  pecten,  iron  combs  or  rakes  for  tearing. 
And  there  was  the  wheel,  fringed  with  spikes,  on 
which  the  culprit  was  stretched  ;  and  there  was  the 
fire  ready  lighted,  with  the  water  hissing  and  groaning 
in  the  large  caldrons  which  were  placed  upon  it.  Cal- 
lista had  lost  for  ever  that  noble  intellectual  com- 
posure of  which  we  have  several  times  spoken ;  she 
shuddered  at  what  she  saw,  and  almost  fainted,  aiid, 
while  waiting  for  her  summons,  leaned  heavily  against 
the  merciless  cornicularius  at  her  side. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     233 

At  lenf^tli  the  judge  began  :  "  Let  the  servant  from 
the  O^^/c/z*;?^  stand  forth."  The  q facialis  answered  that 
he  had  brought  a  prisoner  charged  with  Christi/inity  ; 
she  had  been  brought  to  him  by  the  military  on  the 
night  of  the  riot. 

The  scriha  then  read  out  the  deposition  of  one  of 
the  stationarii,  to  the  effect  that  he  and  his  fellow- 
sokliers  had  received  her  from  the  hands  of  the  civic 
force  on  the  night  in  question,  and  had  brought  her  to 
the  office  of  the  Triumvirs. 

"  Bring  forward  the  prisoner,"  said  the  judge  ;  she 
was  brought  forward, 

"Here  she  is,"  answered  the  officialise  according  to 
the  prescribed  form. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  said  the  judge. 
She  answered,  "  Callista." 
•     The  judge  then  asked  if  she  was  a  freewoman  or  a 
slave  ? 

"  She  answered,  "  Free  ;  the  daughter  of  Orsilochus, 
lapidary,  of  Proconnesus." 

Some  conversation  then  went  on  among  the  ma- 
gistrates as  to  her  advocate  or  defensor.  Aristo  pre- 
sented himself,  but  the  question  arose  whether  he 
^^'as  togatus.  He  was  known,  however,  to  several 
magistrates,  and  was  admitted  to  stand  by  his  sister. 

Then  the  scriha  read  the  charge,  viz.  that  Callista 
was  a  Christian,  and  refused  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods. 

It  was  a  plain  question  of  fact,  which  required 
neither  witnesses  nor  speeches.  At  a  sign  from  the 
Duumvir  in  came  two  priests,  bringing  in  between 
them  the  sm.all  altar  of  Jupiter ;  the  charcoal  was 
ready  lighted,  the  incense  at  the  side,  and  the  judge 
called  to  the  prisoner  to  sprinkle  it  upon  the  flame  for 
the  good  fortune  of  Dccius  and  his  son.  All  eyes 
were  turned  upon  her. 

"  I  am  not  a  Christian,"  she  said,  "  I  told  you  so 
before.  I  have  never  been  to  a  Christian  place  of 
worship,  nor  taken  any  Christian  oath,  nor  joined  in 


234  CALLISTA  ; 

any  Christian  sacrifice.  And  I  should  lie  did  I  say 
that  I  Avas  in  any  sense  a  Christian." 

There  was  a  silence;  then  the  judge  said,  "Prove 
your  words ;  there  is  the  altar,  the  flame,  and  the 
incense  ;  sacrifice  to  the  genius  of  the  emperor." 

She  said,  "  AVhat  can  I  do  ?     I  am  not  a  Christian." 

The  judges  looked  at  each  other,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  It  is  the  old  story  ;  it  is  that  inexplicable,  hateful 
obstinacy,  which  will  neither  yield  to  reason,  common 
sense,  expediency,  or  fear." 

The  Duumvir  only  repeated  the  single  word,  "  Sa- 
crifice." 

She  stopped  awhile ;  then  she  came  forward  with  a 
hurried  step;  "  0,  my  fate  !"  she  cried,  "why  was  I 
born  ?  why  am  I  in  this  strait  ?  I  have  no  god.  What 
can  I  do  ?  I  am  abandoned  ;  why  should  I  not  do 
it?"  She  stopped;  then  she  went  right  on  to  the 
altar ;  she  took  the  incense ;  suddenly  she  looked  up 
to  heaven  and  started,  and  threw  it  away.  "  I  cannot, 
I  dare  not,"  she  cried  out.  There  was  a  great  sensa- 
tion in  court.  "  Evidently  insane,"  said  some  of  the 
more  merciful  of  the  Decurions,  "  poor  thing,  poor 
thing."  Her  brother  ran  up  to  her,  talked  to  her, 
conjured  her,  fell  down  on  his  knees  to  her;  took  her 
hand  violently,  and  would  have  forced  her  to  offer.  In 
vain ;  all  he  could  get  from  her  was,  "  I  am  not  a 
Christian,  indeed  I  am  not  a  Christian.  I  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  them.     O,  the  misery  !  " 

"  She  is  mad,"  cried  Aristo  ;  "  my  lord  judges,  listen 
to  me.  She  was  seized  by  brutal  ruflians  during  the 
riot,  and  the  fright  and  shock  have  overcome  her. 
Give  her  time,  O  give  her  time,  and  she  will  get  right. 
She's  a  good  religious  girl ;  she  has  done  more  work  for 
the  temples  than  any  girl  in  Sicca  ;  half  the  statues 
in  the  city  are  her  finishing.  Many  of  you,  my  lords, 
have  her  handiwork.  She  works  with  me.  Do  not 
add  to  my  anguish  in  seeing  her  deranged,  by  punish- 
ing her  as  a  criminal,  a  Christian :  do  not  take  hei' 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CEFTUET.       235 

from  me.  Sentence  her,  and  you  end  the  whole 
matter  ;  give  her  a  chance,  and  she  will  certainly  be 
restored  to  the  gods  and  to  me.  AYill  you  put  het 
to  death  because  she  is  mad  ?  " 

AVhat  was  to  be  done  ?  The  court  was  afraid  of  the 
Proconsul,  afraid  of  Home  ;  jealous  that  the  mob 
should  have  been  more  forward  than  the  magistracy. 
Had  the  city  moved  sooner,  as  soon  as  the  edict  came, 
there  would  have  been  no  rising,  no  inot.  Already 
they  had  been  called  on  for  a  report  about  that  riot, 
and  an  explanation ;  if  ever  they  had  need  to  look 
sharp  what  they  were  doing,  it  was  now.  On  the 
other  hand,  Callista  and  her  brother  had  friends  among 
the  judges,  as  we  have  said,  and  their  plea  was  at  once 
obvious  and  reasonable.  "  If  she  persists,  she  per- 
sists, and  nothing  can  be  said  ;  we  don't  wish  to  be 
disloyal,  or  careless  of  the  emperor's  commands.  If 
she  is  obstinate,  she  must  die  ;  but  she  dies  quite  as 
usefully  to  us,  with  quite  as  much  effect,  a  month 
hence  as  now.  Not  that  we  ask  you  to  define  a  time 
on  your  own  authority ;  simply  do  this,  write  to  Car- 
thage for  advice.  The  government  can  answer  within 
an  hour,  if  it  chooses.  Merely  say,  here  is  a  young 
woman,  who  has  ever  been  religious  and  well-con- 
ducted, of  great  accomplishments,  and  known  espe- 
cially for  her  taste  and  skill  in  religious  art,  who  since 
the  day  of  the  riot,  has  suddenly  refused  to  take  the 
test.  She  can  give  no  reason  for  her  refusal,  and 
protests  she  is  not  a  Christian.  Her  friends  say  that 
the  fright  has  turned  her  brain,  but  that  if  kindly 
treated  and  kept  quiet,  she  will  come  round,  aiid  do 
all  that  is  required  of  her.     What  are  we  to  do  ?" 

At  last  Callista' s  friends  prevailed.  It  was  decided 
that  the  judges  should  pass  over  this  examination  alto- 
gether, as  if  it  had  been  rendered  informal  by  Cal- 
lista's  conduct.  Had  they  recognized  it  as  a  proper 
legal  process,  they  must  have  sentenced  and  executed 
her.  Such  a  decision  was  of  this  further  advantage  to 
her,  that  nothing  was  altered  as  to  her  place  of  confine- 


236  CALLISTA; 

ment.  Instead  of  being  handed  over  to  the  state  prison, 
she  remained  in  her  former  lodging,  though  in  cus- 
tody, and  was  allowed  to  see  her  friends.  There  had 
been  very  little  chance  of  her  recovery,  supposing  she 
was  mad,  or  of  ever  coming  out,  if  she  had  once  gone 
into  the  formidable  Career.  Meanwhile  the  magis- 
trates sent  to  Cartha<2:e  for  instructions. 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIED  CENTUEY.     237 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Aeisto  was  not  a  fellow  to  have  very  long  distresses ; 
he  never  would  have  died  of  love  or  of  envy,  for 
honour  or  for  loss  of  property;  but  his  present  ca- 
lamity was  one  of  the  greatest  he  could  ever  have,  and 
weighed  upon  him  as  long  as  ever  any  one  could.  His 
love  for  his  sister  was  real,  but  it  would  not  do  to 
look  too  closely  into  the  ground  of  it  ;  if  we  are 
obliged  to  do  so,  we  must  confess  to  a  suspicion  that 
it  lay  rather  in  certain  outward,  nay,  accidental  attri- 
butes of  Callista,  than  in  Callista  herself  Did  she 
lose  her  good  looks,  or  her  amiable  unresisting  sub- 
mission to  his  wishes,  whatever  they  were,  she  would 
also  lose  her  hold  upon  his  affections.  This  is  not  to 
make  any  severe  chai'ge  against  him,  considering  how 
it  is  with  the  common  run  of  brothers  and  sisters, 
husbands  and  wives ;  at  the  same  time,  most  people 
are  haunted  by  the  memory  of  the  past,  and  love  for 
"Auld  lang  syne,"  and  this  Aristo  might  have  had, 
and  perhaps  had  not.  He  loved  chiefly  for  the  present, 
and  by  the  hour. 

However,  at  the  present  time  he  was  in  a  state  of 
acute  suftering,  and  under  its  paroxysm,  he  bethought 
him  again  of  Cornelius's  advice,  which  he  had  rejected, 
to  betake  himself  to  Polemo.  He  had  a  distant  ac- 
quaintance with  him,  sufficient  for  his  purpose,  and  he 
called  on  him  at  the  Mercury  after  his  lecture.  Po- 
lemo was  no  fool,  though  steeped  in  affectation  and 


238  CALLISTA ; 

self-conceit,  and  Aristo  fancied  that  his  sister  might  be 
more  moved  by  a  philosophical  compatriot  than  any 
one  else.  Polemo's  astonishment,  however,  when  the 
matter  was  proposed  to  him  surpassed  words,  and  it 
showed  how  utterly  Aristo  was  absorbed  in  his  own 
misery,  that  the  possibility  of  such  a  reception  should 
not  have  occurred  to  him.  "What  he,  the  friend  of 
Plotinus,  of  Eogatian,  and  the  other  noble  men  and 
women  who  were  his  condisciples  at  Eome ;  he,  a 
member  of  the  intellectual  aristocracy  of  the  metro- 
polis of  the  world,  what  he  to  visit  a  felon  in  prison ! 
and  when  he  found  the  felon  was  a  Christian,  he  fully 
thouglit  that  Aristo  had  come  to  insult  him,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  bidding  him  leave  him  to  himself. 
Aristo,  however,  persisted ;  and  his  evident  auguish, 
and  some  particulars  which  came  out  softened  liim. 
Callista  was  a  Grreek ;  a  literate,  or  blue-stocking. 
She  had  never  indeed  worn  the  philosophic  pallium  (as 
some  Christian  martyrs  afterwards,  if  not  beibre,  have 
done — St.  Catharine  and  St.  Euphemia),  but  there  was 
no  reason  why  she  should  not  do  so.  Polemo  recol- 
lected having  heard  of  her  at  the  Capitol,  and  in  the 
triclinium  of  one  of  the  Decurions,  as  a  lady  of  singu- 
lar genius  and  attainments ;  and  he  lately  had  made 
an  attempt  to  form  a  female  class  of  hearers,  aud  it 
would  be  a  feather  in  his  cap  to  make  a  convert  of 
her.  So,  not  many  days  after,  one  evening,  accom- 
panied by  Aristo,  he  set  out  in  his  litter  to  the  lodg- 
ing where  she  was  in  custody  ;  not,  however,  without 
much  misgiving  when  it  came  to  the  point,  some 
shame,  and  a  consequent  visible  awkwardness  and 
stiffness  in  his  manner.  All  the  perfumes  he  had 
about  him  could  not  hinder  the  disgust  of  such  a  visit 
rising  up  into  his  nostrils. 

Callista's  room  was  very  well  for  a  prison  ;  it  was 
on  the  ground-floor  of  a  house  of  many  stories,  close 
to  the  Officium  of  the  Triumvirate.  Though  not  any 
longer  under  their  strict  jurisdiction,  she  was  allowed 
to  remain  where  she  had  first  been  lodged.     She  was 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIED  CENTURr.     239 

in  one  of  the  rooms  belonging  to  an  apparitor  of  that 
Officium,  and,  as  he  had  a  wife,  or  at  least  a  partner, 
to  take  care  of  her,  she  might  consider  herself  very 
well  oiF.  However,  the  reader  must  recollect  that  we 
are  in  Africa,  in  the  month  of  July,  and  our  young 
Greek  was  little  used  to  heats  which  made  the  whole 
city  nothing  less  than  one  vast  oven  through  the  greater 
part  of  the  twenty-four  hours.  In  lofty,  spacious 
apartments  the  resource  adopted  is  to  exclude  the  ex- 
ternal air,  and  to  live  as  Greenlanders,  with  closed 
windows  and  doors ;  this  was  both  impossible,  and 
would  have  been  unsuccessful  if  attempted,  in  the 
small  apartment  of  Callista.  But  fever  of  mind  is  even 
worse  than  the  heat  of  the  sky ;  and  it  is  undeniable 
that  her  health,  and  her  strength,  and  her  appearance 
are  affected  by  both  the  physical  and  the  moral  enemy. 
The  beauty,  which  was  her  brother's  delight,  is  waning 
away ;  and  the  shadows,  if  not  the  rudiments  of  a  diviner 
loveliness,  which  is  of  expression,  not  of  feature, 
which  inspires  not  human  passion,  but  diffuses  chaste 
thoughts  and  aspirations,  are  taking  its  place.  Aristo 
sees  the  change  with  no  kind  of  satisfaction.  The 
room  has  a  bench,  two  or  three  stools,  and  a  bed  of 
rushes  in  one  corner.  A  staple  is  firmly  fixed  in  the 
wall ;  and  an  iron  chain,  light,  however,  and  long,  if 
the  two  ideas  can  be  reconciled,  reaches  to  her  slender 
arm,  and  is  joined  to  it  by  an  iron  ring. 

On  Polemo's  entering  the  room,  his  first  exclama- 
tion was  to  complain  of  its  closeness ;  but  he  had  to 
do  a  work,  so  he  began  it  without  delay.  Callista, 
on  her  part,  started  ;  she  had  no  wish  for  his  presence. 
She  was  reclining  on  her  couch,  and  she  sat  up.  She 
was  not  equal  to  a  controversy,  nor  did  she  mean  to 
have  one,  whatever  might  be  the  case  with  liim. 

"Callista,  my  life  and  jo}^,  dear  Callista,"  said  her 
brother,  "  I  have  brought  the  greatest  nian  in  Sicca  to 
see  you." 

Callista  cast  upon  him  an  earnest  look,  which  soon 


240  CALLTSTA ; 

subsided  into  indifference.  He  had  a  rose  of  Cyrene 
in  his  hand,  whose  perfume  he  diffused  about  the 
small  room. 

"It  is  Polemo,"  continued  Aristo,  "the  friend  of 
the  great  Plotinus,  who  knows  all  philosophies  and 
all  philosophers.     Hehas  come  out  of  kindness  to  you," 

Callista  acknowledged  his  presence ;  it  was  cer- 
tainly, she  said,  a  great  kindness  for  any  one  to  visit 
her,  and  there. 

Polemo  replied  by  a  compliment;  he  said  it  was 
Socrates  visiting  Aspasia.  There  had  always  been 
women  above  the  standard  of  their  sex,  and  they  had 
ever  held  an  intellectual  converse  with  men  of  mind. 
He  saw  one  such  before  him. 

Callista  felt  it  would  be  plunging  her  soul  still  deeper 
into  shadows,  when  she  sought  realities,  if  she  must 
take  part  in  such  an  argument.     She  remained  silent. 

"Your  sister  has  not  the  fit  upon  her?"  asked 
Polemo  of  Aristo  aside,  neither  liking  her  reception  of 
him,  nor  knowing  what  to  say.  "Not  at  all,  dear 
thing,"  answered  Aristo  ;  "  she  is  all  attention  for  you 
to  begin." 

"Natives  of  Greece,"  at  length  said  he,  "natives 
of  Greece  should  know  each  other ;  they  deserve  to 
know  each  other ;  there  is  a  secret  sympathy  between 
them.  Like  that  mysterious  influence  which  unites 
magnet  to  magnet ;  or  like  the  echo  which  is  a  re- 
percussion of  the  original  voice.  So,  in  like  manner, 
Greeks  are  what  none  but  they  can  be,"  and  he  smelt 
at  his  rose  and  bowed. 

She  smiled  faintly  when  he  mentioned  Greece. 
"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  am  fonder  of  Greece  than  of 
Africa." 

"  Each  has  its  advantages,"  said  Polemo  ;  "  there  is  a 
pleasure  in  imparting  knowledge,  in  lighting  flame 
from  flame.  It  would  be  selfish  did  we  not  leave 
Greece  to  communicate  what  they  have  not  here.  But 
you,"  he  added,  "lady,  neither  can  learn  in  Greece 


A   SKETCH   OF   THE    THIRD    CEIfTURT.  241 

nor  teacli  iu  Africa,  wliile  you  are  in  this  vestibule  of 
hell.  I  understand,  however,  it  is  jour  own  choice ; 
can  that  be  possible  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  wish  to  get  out,  if  I  could,  most  learned 
Polemo,"  said  Callista  sadly. 

"  May  Polemo  of  Ehodes  speak  frankly  to  Callista 
of  Proconnesus  ?  "    asked   Polemo,      "  I  would   not 
speak  to  every  one.     If  so,  let  me  ask,  Avhat  keeps^ 
you  here?" 

"  The  magistrates  of  Sicca  and  this  iron  chain,"  an- 
swered Callista.  "  I  would  I  could  be  elsewhere  ;  I 
would  I  were  not  what  I  am." 

"  What  could  you  wish  to  be  more  than  you  are  ?  " 
answered  Polemo  ;  "  more  gifted,  accomplished,  beau- 
tiful than  any  daughter  of  Africa." 

"  Go  to  the  point,  Polemo,"  said  Aristo  nervously, 
though  respectfully  ;  "she  wants  home-thrusts." 

"  I  see  my  brother  wants  you  to  ask  how  far  it  de- 
pends on  me  that  I  am  here,"  said  Callista,  wishing 
to  hasten  his  movements ;  "  it  is  because  I  w^ill  not 
burn  incense  upon  the  altar  of  Jupiter." 

"  A  most  insufficient  reason,  lady,"  said  Polemo. 

Callista  was  silent. 

"  What  does  that  action  mean ? "  said  Polemo;  "it 
proposes  to  mean  nothing  else  than  that  you  are  loyal 
to  the  Eoman  power.  You  are  not  of  those  Greeks, 
I  presume,  who  dream  of  a  national  insurrection  at 
this  time  ?  then  you  are  loyal  to  Pome.  Did  I  believe 
aLeonidas  could  now  arise,  an  Ilarmodius,  a  Miltiades, 
a  Themistocles,  a  Pericles,  an  Epaminondas,  I  should 
be  as  ready  to  take  the  sword  as  another;  but  it  is 
hopeless.  Greece,  then,  makes  no  claim  on  you  just  now. 
Nor  will  I  believe,  though  you  were  to  tell  me  so  your- 
self, that  you  are  leagued  with  any  obscure,  fanatic 
sect  who  desire  Eome's  downfall.  Consider  Avhat 
Eome  is;"  and  now  he  had  got  into  the  magnificent 
commonplace,  out  of  his  last  panegyrical  oration,  with 
which  he  had  primed  himself  before  he  set  out.  "  I 
am  a  Greek,"  he  said,  "  I  love  Greece,  but  I  love  truth 

E 


2i2  calltsta; 

better ;  and  I  look  at  facts,  I  grasp  them,  and  I  confess 
to  them.  The  whole  earth,  through  untold  centuries, 
has  at  length  grown  into  the  imperial  dominion  of 
Eome.  It  has  converged  and  coalesced  in  all  its  va- 
rious parts  into  one  Kome.  This,  which  we  see,  is 
the  last,  the  perfect  state  of  human  society.  The 
course  of  things,  the  force  of  natural  powers,  as  is  well 
understood  by  all  great  lawyers  and  philosophers, 
cannot  go  further.  Unity  has  come  at  length,  and 
unity  is  eternity.  It  will  be  for  ever,  because  it  is 
one.  The  principle  of  dissolution  is  eliminated.  We 
have  reached  the  apotelesma  of  the  world.  Grreece, 
Egypt,  Syria,  Libya,  Etruria,  Lydia,  have  all  had  their 
share  in  the  result.  Each  of  them,  in  its  own  day, 
has  striven  in  vain  to  stop  the  course  of  fate,  and  has 
been  hurried  onwards  at  its  wheels  as  its  victim  or  its 
instrument.  And  shall  Judsea  do  what  profound 
Egypt  and  subtle  Greece  have  tried  in  vain  ?  If  even 
the  freedom  of  thought,  the  liberal  scepticism,  nay, 
the  revolutionary  theories  of  Hellas  have  proved  un- 
equal to  the  task  of  splitting  up  the  Eoman  power,  if 
the  pomp  and  luxury  of  the  East  have  failed,  shall  the 
mysticism  of  Syria  succeed  ?  " 

"  AVell,  dear  Callista,  are  you  listening  ?  "  cried 
Aristo,  not  over-confident  of  the  fact,  though  Polemo 
looked  round  at  him  with  astonishment. 

"Ten  centuries,"  he  continued,  "  ten  centuries  have 
just  been  completed  since  Eome  began  her  victorious 
career.  Eor  ten  cejituries  she  has  been  fulfilling  her 
high  mission  in  the  dispositions  of  Destiny,  and  per- 
fecting her  maxims  of  policy  and  rules  of  government. 
Eor  ten  centuries  she  has  pursued  one  track  with  au 
ever  growing  intensity  of  zeal,  and  an  ever  widening 
extent  of  territory.  What  can  she  not  do  ?  one 
thing,  and  that  one  thing  which  she  has  not  presumed 
to  do,  3^ou  are  attempting.  She  has  maintained  her 
own  religion,  as  was  fitting  ;  but  she  has  never  thrown 
contempt  on  the  religion  of  others.  This  you  are 
doing.     Observe,  Callista,  Eome  herself,  in  spite  of 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     243 

her  great  power,  lias  yielded  to  that  necessity  wliich  is 
greater.  She  does  not  meddle  with  the  religious  of 
the  peoples.  She  has  opened  no  war  against  their 
diversities  of  rite.  The  conquering  power  found,  espe- 
cially in  the  East,  innumerable  traditions,  customs, 
prejudices,  principles,  superstitions,  matted  together 
in  one  hopeless  mass ;  she  left  them  as  they  were  ; 
she  recognized  them;  it  would  have  been  the  worse 
for  her  if  she  had  done  otherwise.  All  she  said  to  the 
peoples,  all  she  dared  say  to  them,  was,  '  You  bear  with 
me,  and  I  will  bear  with  you.'  Yet  this  you  will  not 
do  ;  you  Christians,  who  have  no  pretence  to  any  terri- 
tory, who  are  not  even  the  smallest  of  the  peoples,  who 
are  not  even  a  people  at  all,  you  have  the  fanaticism 
to  denounce  all  other  rites  but  your  own,  nay,  the 
religion  of  great  Eome.  Who  are  you  ?  upstarts  and 
vagabonds  of  yesterday.  Older  religions  than  yours, 
more  intellectual,  more  beautiful,  religions,  which  have 
had  a  position,  and  a  history,  and  a  political  influence, 
have  come  to  nought ;  and  shall  you  prevail,  you,  a  conge- 
Wc5,ahotch-potch  of  the  leavings,  and  scraps,  and  broken 
meat  of  the  great  peoples  of  the  East  and  West  ? 
Blush,  blush,  Grrecian  Callista,  you  with  a  glorious 
nationality  of  your  own  to  go  shares  with  some 
hundred  peasants,  slaves,  thieves,  beggars,  hucksters, 
tinkers,  cobblers,  and  fishermen  !  A  lady  of  high  cha- 
racter, of  brilliant  accomplishments,  to  be  the  associate 
of  the  outcasts  of  society  !  " 

Polemo's  speech,  though  cumbrous,  did  execution, 
at  least  the  termination  of  it,  upon  minds  constituted 
like  the  Grecian.  Aristo  jumped  up,  swore  an  oath, 
and  looked  round  triumphantly  at  Callista,  who  felt  its 
force  also.  After  all,  what  did  she  know  of  Christians  ? 
— at  best  she  was  leaving  the  known  for  the  unknown  : 
she  was  sure  to  be  embracing  certain  evil  for  contingent 
good.  She  said  to  herself,  "  No,  I  never  can  be  a 
Christian."  Then  she  said  aloud,  "  My  lord  Polemo, 
I  am  not  a  Christian;— I  never  said  I  was." 

"That  is  her  absurdity!"  cried  Aristo.  "She  ia 
112 


244  CALLISTA ; 

neitlier  one  thing  nor  tlie  other.  She  won't  say  she's 
a  Christian,  and  she  won't  sacrifice!" 

"  It  is  my  misfortune,"  she  said,  "  I  know,  I  am 
losing  both  what  I  see,  and  what  I  don't  see.  It  is 
most  inconsistent:  yet  what  can  I  do  ?" 

Polemo  had  said  what  he  considered  enough.  He 
was  one  of  those  who  sold  his  words.  He  had  already 
been  over-generous,  and  was  disposed  to  give  away  no 
more. 

After  a  time,  Callista  said,  "  Polemo,  do  you  believe 
in  one  God?" 

"Certain]}^,"  he  answered:  "I  believe  in  one 
eternal,  self-existing  something." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  feel  that  God  within  my 
heart.  I  feel  myself  in  His  j^resence.  He  says  to  me, 
*  Do  this  :  don't  do  that.'  Ton  may  tell  me  that  this 
dictate  is  a  mere  law  of  m.y  nature,  as  to  joy  or  to 
grieve.  I  cannot  understand  this.  No,  it  is  the 
echo  of  a  person  speaking  to  me.  Nothing  shall 
persuade  me  that  it  does  not  ultimately  proceed  from  a 
person  external  to  me.  It  carries  with  it  its  proof  of 
its  divine  origin.  My  nature  feels  towards  it  as  to- 
wards a  person.  'When  I  obey  it,  I  feel  a  satisfaction ; 
when  I  disobey,  a  soreness, — just  like  that  which  I 
feel  in  pleasing  or  ofiending  some  revered  friend.  So 
you  see,  Polemo,  I  believe  in  what  is  more  than  a  mere 
"  something."  I  believe  in  what  is  more  real  to  me  than 
sun,  moo]3,  stars,  and  the  fair  earth,  and  the  voice  of 
friends.  You  will  say,  AA'ho  is  He  ?  Has  He  ever 
told  you  any  thing  about  Himself ?  Alas!  no! — the 
more's  the  pity !  But  I  will  not  give  up  what  I  have, 
because  I  have  not  more.  An  echo  implies  a  voice  ; 
a  voice  a  speaker.     That  speaker  I  love  and  I  fear." 

Here  she  was  exhausted,  and  overcome  too,  poor 
Callista !  with  her  own  emotions. 

"O  that  I  could  find  Him!"  she  exclaimed,  pas- 
sionately. "  On  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  I 
grope,  but  touch  Him  not.  Why  dost  Thou  fight 
against  me  ? — why  dost  Thou  scare  and  perplex  me, 


A  SKETCH  OE  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     245 

0  First  and  Only  Fair  ?  I  have  Thee  not,  and  I  need 
Thee."  She  added,  "  I  am  no  Christian,  you  see,  or  I 
shoidd  have  found  Him ;  or  at  least  I  should  say  I  had 
found  Him." 

"  It  is  hopeless,"  said  Polemo  to  Aristo,  in  much 
disgust,  and  with  some  hauteur  of  manner :  "  she  is 
too  far  gone.  You  should  not  have  brought  me  to  this 
place." 

Aristo  groaned. 

"  Shall  I,"  she  continued,  "  worship  any  but  Him  ? 
Shall  I  say  that  He  whom  I  see  not,  whom  I  seek,  is 
our  Jupiter,  or  Csesar,  or  the  goddess  Home  ?  They 
are  none  of  them  images  of  this  inward  guide  of  mine. 

1  sacrifice  to  Him  alone." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  in  amazement : 
one  of  them  in  anger.  "  It's  like  the  demon  of  So- 
crates," said  Aristo,  timidly. 

"  I  will  acknowledge  Ca?sar  in  every  fitting  way," 
she  repeated ;  "  but  I  will  not  worship  him." 

Presently  she  added,  "  Polemo,  will  not  that  invi- 
sible Monitor  have  something  to  say  to  all  of  us,  to 
you,  at  some  future  day  ?  " 

"Spare  me!  spare  me,  Callista!"  cried  Polemo, 
starting  up  w^ith  a  violence  unsuited  to  his  station  and 
profession.  "  Spare  my  ears,  unhappy  woman ! — such 
words  have  never  hitherto  entered  them.  I  did  not 
come  to  be  insulted.  Poor,  blind,  hapless,  perverse 
spirit, — I  separate  myself  from  you  for  ever  !  Desert, 
if  you  will,  the  majestic,  bright,  beneficent  traditions 
of  your  forefathers,  and  live  in  this  frightful  super- 
stition !     Farewell!" 

He  did  not  seem  more  pleased  with  Aristo  than 
with  Callista,  though  Aristo  helped  him  into  his  litter 
walked  by  his  side,  and  did  what  he  could  to  pro 
pitiate  him. 


246  CAILISTA ; 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

If  there  is  a  state  of  mind  utterly  forlorn,  it  i?  that  in 
which  we  left  the  poor  prisoner  after  Polemo  had!, 
departed.  She  was  neither  a  Christian,  nor  was  she 
not.  She  was  in  the  midway  region  of  inquiry,  which 
as  surely  takes  time  to  pass  over,  except  there  be  some 
almost  miraculous  interference,  as  it  takes  timiC  to 
walk  from  place  to  place.  You  see  a  person  coming 
towards  you,  and  you  say,  impatiently,  "  AVhy  don't 
you  come  faster? — why  are  you  not  here  already?" 
"Why  ? — because  it  takes  thne.  To  see  that  heathen- 
ism is  false, — to  see  that  Christianity  is  true, — are 
two  acts,  and  involve  two  processes.  They  may 
indeed  be  united,  and  the  truth  may  supplant  the 
error ;  but  they  may  not.  Callista  obeyed,  as  far  as 
truth  was  brought  home  to  her.  She  saw  the 
vanity  of  idols  before  she  had  faith  in  Him  who  came 
to  destroy  them.  She  could  safely  say,  "I  discard 
Jupiter:"  she  could  not  say,  "I  am  a  Christian." 
Besides,  what  did  she  know  of  Christians  ?  How  did 
she  know  that  they  would  admit  her,  if  she  wished  it  ? 
They  were  a  secret  society,  with  an  election,  an  initi- 
ation, and  oaths  ; — not  a  mere  philosophical  school,  or 
a  profession  of  opinion,  open  to  any  individual.  If 
they  were  the  good  people  that  she  fancied  them  to 
be, — and  if  they  were  not,  she  would  not  think  of  them 
at  all, — they  were  not  likely  to  accept  of  her. 

Still,  though  we  may  account  for  her  conduct,  its 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.      247 

issue  was  not,  on  that  account,  the  less  painful.  She 
had  neither  the  promise  of  this  world,  nor  of  the  next, 
and  was  losing  earth  without  gaining  heaven.  Our 
Lord  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  Be  ye  good  money- 
changers?" Poor  Callista  did  not  know  how  to  turn 
herself  to  account.  It  had  been  so  all  through  her 
short  life.  She  had  ardent  affections,  and  keen  sensi- 
bilities, and  high  aspirations ;  but  she  was  not  for- 
tunate in  the  application  of  them.  She  had  put  her- 
self into  her  brother's  hands,  and  had  let  him  direct 
her  course.  It  could  not  be  expected  that  he  would 
be  very  different  from  the  world.  We  are  cautioned 
against  "  rejoicing  in  our  youth."  Aristo  rejoiced  in 
his  without  restraint ;  and  he  made  his  sister  rejoice 
in  hers,  if  enjoyment  it  was.  lie  himself  found  in  the 
pleasures  he  pointed  out  a  banquet  of  fruits : — she 
dust  and  ashes.  And  so  she  went  on ;  not  changing 
her  life  from  habit,  from  the  captivity  of  nature,  but 
weary,  disappointed,  fastidious,  hungry,  yet  not  know- 
ing what  she  would  have  ;  yearning  after  something 
she  did  not  well  know  what.  And  as  heretofore  she 
had  cast  her  lot  with  the  world,  yet  had  received  no 
price  for  her  adhesion,  so  now  she  had  bid  it  farewell, 
yet  had  nothing  to  take  in  its  place. 

As  to  lier  brother,  after  the  visit  of  Polemo,  he  got 
more  and  more  annoyed — angry  rather  than  distressed, 
and  angry  with  her.  One  more  opportunity  occurred 
of  her  release,  and  it  was  the  last  effort  he  made  to 
move  her.  Cornelius,  in  spite  of  his  pompousness, 
had  acted  the  part  of  a  real  friend.  He  wrote  from 
Carthage,  that  he  had  happily  succeeded  in  his  appli- 
cation to  government,  and,  diflicult  and  unusual  as  was 
the  grace,  had  obtained  her  release.  He  sent  the 
formal  documents  for  carrying  it  through  the  court, 
and  gained  the  eager  benediction  of  the  excitable 
Aristo.  He  rushed  with  the  parchments  to  the  magis- 
trates, who  recognized  them  as  suiScient,  and  got  an 
order  for  admission  to  her  room. 

"Joy,  my  dearest,"  he  cried;  "you  are  free!     We 


248  CALLISTA ; 

will  leave  tliis  loathsome  country  by  tlie  first  Tcssel. 
I  have  seen  the  magistrates  already." 

The  colour  came  into  her  wan  face,  she  clasped  her 
hands  together,  and  looked  earnestly  at  Aristo.  He 
proceeded  to  explain  the  process  of  liberation.  She 
would  not  be  called  on  to  sacrifice,  but  must  sign  a 
writing  to  the  eff'ect  that  she  had  done  so,  and  there 
would  be  an  end  of  the  whole  matter.  On  the  first 
statement  she  saw  no  difiiculty  in  the  proposal,  and 
started  up  in  animation.  Presently  her  countenance 
fell ;  how  could  she  sa}^  that  she  had  done  what  it 
was  treason  to  her  inward  Gruide  to  do  ?  What  was 
the  difference  between  acknowledging  a  blasphemy  by 
a  signature  or  by  incense  ?  She  smiled  sorrowfully  at 
him,  shook  her  head,  and  lay  down  again  upon  her 
rushes.  She  had  anticipated  the  Church's  judgment 
on  the  case  of  the  Lihellcdici. 

Aristo  could  not  at  first  believe  he  heard  aright, 
that  she  refused  to  be  saved  by  what  seemed  to  him  a 
matter  of  legal  form  ;  and  his  anger  grew  so  high  as  to 
eclipse  and  to  shake  his  aff'ection.  "  Lost  girl,"  he 
cried,  '•  I  abandon  you  to  the  Euries  !"  and  he  shook 
his  clenched  hand  at  her.  He  turned  away,  and  said 
he  would  never  see  her  again,  and  he  kept  his  word. 
He  never  came  again.  He  took  refuge,  with  less 
restraint  than  was  usual  to  him,  in  such  pleasures  as 
the  city  could  supply,  and  strove  to  drive  his  sister 
from  his  mind  by  dissipation.  He  mixed  in  the  games 
of  the  Campus  Martins  under  the  shadow  of  the 
mountain ;  took  part  with  the  revellers  in  the  Eorum, 
and  ended  the  evening  at  the  Thermae.  Sometimes 
the  image  of  dear  Callista,  as  once  she  looked, 
would  rush  into  his  mind  with  a  force  which  would 
not  be  denied,  and  he  would  weep  for  a  whole 
night. 

At  length  he  determined  to  destroy  himself,  after 
the  example  of  so  many  great  men.  He  gave  a  sump- 
tuous entertainment,  expending  his  means  upon  it, 
and  invited  his  friends  to  partake  of  it.     It  passed  off 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     249 

with  great  gaiety ;  nothing  was  wanting  to  make  it 
equal  to  an  occasion  so  special  and  singular.  He 
disclosed  to  his  guests  his  purpose,  and  they  applauded  : 
the  last  libations  were  made—the  revellers  departed — 
the  lights  were  extinguished.  Aristo  disappeared  that 
night :  Sicca  never  saw  him  again.  After  some  time 
it  was  found  that  he  was  at  Carthage,  and  he  had  been 
provident  enough  to  take  with  him  some  of  his  best 
working  tools,  and  some  specimens  of  his  own  and  poor 
Callista's  skill. 

Strange  to  say,  Jucundus  pi^oved  a  truer  friend  to 
the  poor  girl  than  her  brother.  In  spite  of  his  selfish- 
ness and  hatred  of  Christians,  he  was  considerably 
affected  as  her  case  got  more  and  more  serious,  and  it 
became  evident  that  only  one  answer  could  be  returned 
to  the  magistrates  from  Carthage.  He  was  quite  easy 
about  Agellius,  Avho  had,  as  he  considered,  successfully 
made  oft"  with  himself,  and  he  was  reconciled  to  the 
thought  of  never  seeing  him  again.  Had  it  not  been 
for  this,  one  might  have  fancied  that  some  lurking 
anxiety  about  the  fate  of  his  nephew  might  have  kept 
alive  the  fidget  which  Callista's  dismal  situation  gave 
him,  for  the  philosopher  tells  us,  that  pity  always  has 
something  in  it  of  self;  but,  under  the  circumstances, 
it  would  be  rash  judgment  to  have  any  such  suspicion 
of  his  motives.  Pie  was  not  a  cruel  man :  even  the 
"  hoaiy-headed  Pabius,"  or  Cyprian,  or  others  whom  he 
so  roundly  abused,  would  have  found,  when  it  came  to 
the  point,  that  his  bluster  was  his  worst  weapon  against 
them ;  at  any  rate  he  had  enough  of  "  the  milk  of 
human  nature"  to  feel  considerable  distress  about 
that  idiotic  Callista. 

Yet  what  could  he  do  ?  He  might  as  well  stop 
the  passage  of  the  sun,  as  the  movements  of  mighty 
Eome,  and  a  rescript  would  be  coming  to  a  certainty 
in  due  time  from  Carthage,  and  would  just  say  one 
thing,  which  would  forthwith  be  passing  into  the 
region  of  fact.  He  had  no  one  to  consult ;  and  to 
tell  the  truth,  Callista's  fate  was  more  than  acquiesced 
in  by  the  public  of  Sicca.     Her  death  seemed  a  solu- 


50  CALLISTA ; 

tion  of  various  perplexities  and  troubles  into  which 
the  edict  had  brought  them;  it  would  be  pur- 
chasing the  praise  of  loyalty  cheaply.  Moreover, 
there  were  sets  of  persons  actuall}^  hostile  to  her 
and  her  brother ;  the  companies  of  statuaries,  lapida- 
ries, aud  goldsmiths,  were  jealous  of  foreign  artists, 
like  them,  who  showed  contempt  for  Africa,  and  were 
acquainted,  or  rather  intimate,  with  many  of  the 
higher  classes,  and  even  high  personages  in  the  place. 
AVell,  but  could  not  some  of  those  great  people  help 
her  now  ?  His  mind  glanced  towards  Calphurnius, 
whom  he  had  heard  of  as  in  some  way  or  other  pro- 
tecting her  on  the  evening  of  the  riot,  and  to  him  he 
determined  to  betake  himself. 

Calphurnius  and  the  soldiery  were  still  iu  high 
dudgeon  with  the  populace  of  Sicca,  displeased  with 
the  magistrates,  and  full  of  sympathy  for  Callista. 
Jucundus  opened  his  mind  fully  to  the  tribune,  and 
persuaded  him  to  take  him  to  Septimius,  his  military 
superior,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  latter  many  good 
words  were  uttered  both  by  Calphurnius  and  Jucundus. 
Jucundus  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  very 
great  mistake  to  strike  at  any  but  the  leaders  of  the 
Christian  sect ;  he  quoted  the  story  of  King  Tarquin 
and  the  poppies,  and  assured  the  great  man  that  it  was 
what  he  had  always  said  and  always  prophesied,  and 
that,  depend  upon  it,  it  was  a  great  mistake  not  to 
catch  Cyprianus. 

"  The  strong  arm  of  the  law,"  he  said,  "  should  not, 
on  tlie  other  hand,  be  put  forth  against  such  butterflies 
as  this  Callista,  a  girl,  who,  he  knew  from  her  brother, 
had  not  yet  seen  eighteen  summers.  What  harm 
could  such  a  poor  helpless  thing  possibly  do  ?  She 
could  not  defend  herself,  much  less  attack  any  body 
else.  No,"  he  continued,  "  your  proper  policy  with 
these  absurd  people  is  a  smiling  face  and  an  open 
hand.  EecoUect  the  fable  of  the  sun  and  the  wind; 
which  made  the  traveller  lay  aside  his  cloak  ?  Do  you 
fall  in  with  some  sour-visaged,  stiff-backed  worshipper 
of  the  Furies  ?  fill  his  cup  for  him,  crown  his  head 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     251 

with  flowers,  bring  in  the  flute-women.  Observe 
him — he  relaxes ;  a  smile  spreads  on  his  countenance  ; 
he  laughs  at  a  jest ;  '  captus  est ;  habet^ :'  he  pours  a 
libation.  Grreat  Jove  has  conquered  ;  he  is  loyal  to 
Eome ;  what  can  you  desire  more  ?  But  beat  him, 
kick  him,  starve  him,  turn  him  out  of  doors ;  and  you 
have  a  natural  enemy  to  do  you  a  mischief  whenever 
he  can." 

Calphurnius  took  his  own  line,  and  a  simple  one. 
"If  it  was  some  vile  slave  or  scoundrel  African,"  he 
said,  "  no  harm  would  have  been  done  ;  but,  by  Jupiter 
Tonans,  it's  a  Greek  girl,  who  sings  like  a  Muse, 
dances  like  a  Grace,  and  spouts  verses  like  Minerva. 
'Twould  be  sacrilege  to  touch  a  hair  of  her  head  ;  and 
we  forsooth  are  to  let  these  cowardly  dogs  of  magis- 
trates entrap  Fortunianus  at  Carthage  into  this  sole- 
cism." 

Septimius  said  nothing,  as  became  a  man  in  office  ; 
but  he  came  to  an  understaijding  with  his  visitors.  It 
was  plain  that  the  Duumvirs  of  Sicca  had  no  legal  cus- 
tody of  Callista  ;  in  a  criminal  matter  she  might  seem  to 
fall  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  military ;  and  Cal- 
phurnius gained  leave  to  claim  his  right  at  the  proper 
moment.  The  rest  of  his  plan  the  tribune  kept  to 
himself,  nor  did  Septimius  wish  to  know  it.  He 
intended  to  march  a  guard  into  the  prison  shortly 
before  Callista  was  brought  out  for  execution,  and 
then  to  make  it  believed  that  she  had  died  under  the 
horrors  of  the  Barathrum.  The  corpse  of  another 
woman  could  without  difficulty  be  found  to  be  her  re- 
presentative, and  she  herself  would  be  carried  off  to 
the  camp. 

Meanwhile,  to  return  to  the  prisoner  herself,  what 
was  the  consolation,  what  the  occupation  of  Callista 
in  this  waiting  time,  ere  the  Proconsul  had  sent  his 
answer  ?     Strange  to   say,  and,  we  suppose,  from  a 

1  "Heisliit." 


252  CALLTSTA ; 

einful  way wardness  in  her,  she  had,  up  to  this  moment, 
neglected  to  avail  herself  of  a  treasure,  which  by  a 
rare  favour  had  been  put  into  her  possession.  A  small 
parchment,  carefully  written,  elaborately  adorned,  lay 
in  her  bosom,  which  miglit  already  have  been  the 
remedy  of  many  a  perplexity,  many  a  woe.  It  is 
difficult  to  say  under  what  feelings  she  had  been 
reluctant  to  open  the  Holy  Gospel,  which  Caecilius 
had  intrusted  to  her  care.  Whether  she  was  so  low 
and  despondent  that  she  could  not  make  the  effort,  or 
whether  she  feared  to  convince  herself  further,  or 
whether  she  professed  to  be  Avaiting  for  some  calmer 
time,  as  if  that  were  possible  ;  whether  her  unwilling- 
ness was  that  which  makes  sick  people  so  averse  to 
eating,  or  to  remedies  which  they  know  would  be  use- 
ful to  them,  caunot  well  be  determined ;  but  there  are 
many  of  us  who  may  be  able,  from  parallel  instances 
of  infirmity,  to  enter  into  her  state  of  mind,  which  led 
her  at  least  to  procrastinate  what  she  might  do  any 
minute.  However,  now  'left  absolutely  to  herself, 
Aristo  gone,  and  the  answer  of  the  government  to  the 
magistracy  not  having  yet  come,  she  recurred  to  the 
parchment,  and  to  the  Bishop's  words,  which  ran  "  Here 
you  will  see  who  it  is  we  love,"  or  language  to  that  effect. 
It  was  tightly  lodged  under  her  girdle,  and  so  had 
escaped  in  the  confusion  of  that  terrible  evening.  She 
opened  it  at  length,  and  read. 

It  was  the  writing  of  a  provincial  Greek  ;  elegant 
however,  and  marked  with  that  simplicity  which  was 
to  her  taste  the  elementary  idea  of  a  classic  author. 
It  was  addressed  to  one  Theophilus,  and  professed  to 
be  a  carefully  digested  and  verified  account  of  events 
which  had  been  already  attempted  by  others.  She 
read  a  few  paragraphs,  and  became  interested,  and  in 
no  long  time  she  was  absorbed  in  the  volume.  When 
she  had  once  taken  it  up,  she  did  not  lay  it  down. 
Even  at  other  times  she  would  have  prized  it,  but  now, 
when  she  was  so  desolate  and  lonely,  it  was  simply  a 
gift  from  an  unseen  world.     It  opened  a  view  of  a  new 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  TniED  CENTUET.     253 

state  and  community  of  beings,  which  only  seemed  too 
beautiful  to  be  possible.  But  not  into  a  new  state  of 
things  alone,  but  into  tlie  presence  of  One  who  was 
simply  distinct  and  removed  from  any  thing  tliat  she 
had,  in  her  most  imaginative  moments,  ever  depicted 
to  her  mind  as  ideal  perfection.  Here  was  that  to 
which  her  intellect  tended,  though  that  intellect  could 
not  frame  it.  It  could  approve  and  acknowledge 
when  set  before  it  what  it  could  not  originate.  Here 
was  He  who  spoke  to  her  in  her  conscience ;  whose 
Yoiee  she  heard,  whose  Person  she  was  seeking  for. 
Here  was  He  who  kindled  a  warmth  on  the  cheek  of 
both  Chione  and  Agellius.  That  Image  sank  deep 
into  her ;  she  felt  it  to  be  a  reality.  She  said  to  her- 
self, "This  is  no  poet's  dream  ;  it  is  the  delineation  of 
a  real  individual.  There  is  too  much  truth,  and  nature, 
and  life,  and  exactness  about  it,  to  be  any  thing  else." 
Yet  she  shrunk  from  it ;  it  made  her  feel  her  own 
difference  from  it,  and  a  feeling  of  humiliation  came 
upon  her  mind,  such  as  she  never  had  had  before.  She 
began  to  despise  herself  more  thoroughly  day  by  day; 
yet  she  recollected  various  passages  in  the  history 
which  reassured  her  amid  her  self-abasement,  espe- 
cially that  of  His  tenderness  and  love  for  the  poor 
girl  at  the  feast,  who  would  anoint  His  feet ;  and  the 
full  tears  stood  in  her  eyes,  and  she  fancied  she  was 
that  sinful  child,  and  that  He  did  not  repel  her. 

O  what  a  new  world  of  thought  she  had  entered ! 
it  occupied  her  mind  from  its  very  novelty.  Every 
thing  looked  dull  and  dim  by  the  side  of  it ;  her 
brother  had  ever  been  dinning  into  her  ears  that 
maxim  of  the  heathen,  "Enjoy  the  present,  trust 
nothing  to  the  future."  She  indeed  could  not  enjoy 
the  present  with  tliat  relish  which  he  wished,  and  she 
had  not  any  trust  in  the  future  either ;  but  this 
volume  spoke  a  different  doctrine.  There  she  learned 
the  very  opposite  to  what  Aristo  taught,  viz.  that 
the  present  must  be  sacrificed  for  the  future  ;  that 
what  is  seen  must  give  way  to  what  is  believed.     Nay 


254  CALLISTA ; 

more,  she  drank  in  tlie  teaching  which  at  first  seemed 
so  paradoxical,  that  even  present  happiness  and  pre- 
sent greatness  lie  in  relinquishing  what  at  first  sight 
seems  to  promise  them  ;  that  the  way  to  true  pleasure 
is,  not  through  self-indulgence,  but  through  mortifica- 
tion ;  that  the  way  to  power  is  weakness,  the  way  to 
success  failure,  the  way  to  wisdom  foolishness,  the 
way  to  glory  dishonour.  She  saw  that  there  was  a 
higher  beauty  than  that  which  the  order  and  harmony 
of  the  natural  world  revealed,  and  a  deeper  peace  and 
calm  than  that  which  the  exercise  wliether  of  the 
intellect  or  of  the  purest  human  aftection  can  supply. 
She  now  began  to  understand  that  strange,  unearthly 
composure,  which  had  struck  her  in  Chione,  Agel- 
lius,  and  Csecilius ;  she  understood  that  they  were  de- 
tached from  earth,  not  merely  because  they  had  not  the 
possession,  nor  the  natural  love  of  its  gifts,  but  be- 
cause they  possessed  a  higher  blessing  already,  which 
they  loved  above  every  thing  else.  Thus,  by  degrees, 
Callista  came  to  walk  by  a  new  philosophy ;  and  had 
ideas,  and  principles,  and  recognized  relations  and 
aims,  and  felt  the  force  of  arguments,  to  which  before 
she  was  an  utter  stranger.  Life  and  death,  action 
and  suftering,  fortunes  and  abilities,  all  had  now  a  new 
meaning  and  application.  As  the  skies  speak  dif- 
ferently to  the  philosopher  and  the  peasant,  as  a  book 
of  poems  to  the  imaginative  and  the  cold  and  narrow 
intellect,  so  now  she  saw  her  being,  her  history,  her 
present  condition,  her  future  in  a  new  light,  which  no 
one  else  could  share  with  her.  But  the  ruling  sove- 
reign thought  of  the  whole  was  He  who  exemplified 
all  this  wonderful  philosophy  in  Himself. 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTITEY.  255 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

There  were  those,  however,  whom  Callista  could 
understand,  and  who  could  understand  her;  there 
were  those  who,  while  Aristo,  Cornelius,  Jucundus, 
and  Poleino  were  moving  in  her  behalf,  were  interest- 
ing themselves  also,  and  in  a  more  eifectual  way.  Agel- 
lius  bad  joined  Csecilius,  and,  if  in  no  other  way,  by 
his  mouth  came  to  the  latter  and  his  companions,  the 
news  of  her  imprisonment.  On  the  morning  that 
Agellius  had  been  so  strangely  let  out  of  confinement- 
by  his  brother,  and  found  himself  seated  at  the  street- 
door,  with  his  tunic  on  his  arm  and  his  boots  on  the 
ground  before  him,  his  first  business  was  to  recollect 
where  he  was,  and  to  dispose  of  those  articles  of  dress 
according  to  their  respective  uses.  "What  should  he  do 
with  himself,  was  of  course  his  second  thought.  He 
could  not  stay  there  long  without  encountering  the 
early  risers  of  Sicca,  the  gates  being  already  open. 
To  attempt  to  find  out  where  Callista  was,  and  then  to 
see  her  or  rescue  her,  would  have  ended  at  once  in 
his  own  capture.  To  go  to  his  own  farm  would  have 
been  nearly  as  dangerous,  and  would  have  been  more 
unmeaning.  Caecilius  too  had  said,  that  they  were 
not  long  to  be  separated,  and  had  given  him  directions 
for  finding  him. 

Immediately  then  he  made  his  way  to  one  of  the 
eastern  gates,  which  led  to  Thibursicumbur.  There 
was  indeed  no  time  to  be  lost,  as  he  soon  had  indica- 


256  CALLTSTA  ; 

tioiis ;  he  met  several  men  atIio  knew  tilm  hj  sight, 
and  one  of  the  apparitors  of  the  Duumviri,  who  happily 
did  not.  An  apostate  Christian,  whose  zeal  for  the 
government  was  notorious,  passed  him  and  looked 
back  after  him.  However,  he  would  soon  be  out  of 
pursuit,  if  he  had  the  start  of  them  until  the  sun  got 
round  the  mountains  he  was  seeking.  He  walked  on 
through  a  series  of  rocky  and  barren  hills,  till  he  got 
some  way  past  the  second  milestone.  Before  he  had 
reached  the  third  he  had  entered  a  defile  in  the  moun- 
tains. Perpendicular  rocks  rose  on  each  side  of  him, 
and  the  level  road,  reaching  from  rock  to  rock,  was 
not  above  thirty  feet  across.  He  felt  that  if  he  was  pur- 
sued here,  there  was  no  escape.  The  third  milestone 
passed,  he  counted  out  his  thousand  steps,  as  Csecilius 
had  instructed  him.  By  this  time  the  road-  had  left 
the  stony  bottom,  and  was  rising  up  the  side  of  the 
precipice.  Brushwood  and  dwarf  pines  covered  it, 
mingled  with  a  few  olives  and  caroubas.  He  said 
out  his  seven  pater  uosters,  and  looked  around.  He 
had  just  passed  a  goatherd,  and  they  looked  hard  at 
each  other.     Agellius  wished  him  good  morning. 

"  You  are  wishing  a  kid  for  Bacchus,  sir,"  said  the 
man  to  him,  as  he  was  running  his  eye  over  the  goats. 
On  Agellius  answering  in  the  negative,  he  said  in  a 
clownish  way,  "  He  who  does  not  sacrifice  to  Bacchus, 
does  not  sacrifice  goats." 

Agellius,  bearing  in  mind  Csecilius's  directions,  saw 
of  course  there  was  something  in  the  words  which  did 
not  meet  the  ear,  and  answered  carelessly,  "  He  who 
does  not  sacrifice,  does  not  sacrifice  to  Bacchus." 

"True,"  said  the  man,  "  but  perhaps  you  prefer  a 
lamb  for  a  sacrifice." 

Agellius  replied,  "  If  it  is  the  right  one ;  but  the 
one  I  mean  was  slain  long  since." 

The  man,  without  any  change  of  manner,  went  on 
to  say  that  there  was  an  acquaintance  of  his  not  far 
up  the  rock,  who  could  perhaps  satisfy  him  on  the 
point.     He   said,  "PoUow  those  wild  olives,  though 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     257 

the  path  seems  broken,  and  you  will  come  to  him  at 
the  nineteenth." 

xlgellius  set  out,  and  never  was  path  so  untrue  to 
its  own  threats.  It  seemed  ending  in  abrupt  cliffs 
every  turn,  but  never  fulfilled  anticipation ;  that  is, 
while  he  kept  to  the  olive  trees.  After  ascending  what 
was  rather  a  flight  of  marble  steps,  washed  and  po- 
lished by  the  winter  torrents,  than  a  series  of  crags, 
he  fulfilled  the  number  of  trees,  and  looked  round  at 
the  man  sitting  under  it.  O  the  joy  and  surprise  !  it 
was  his  old  servant  Aspar. 

"You  are  safe,  then,  Aspar,"  he  said,  "and  I  find 
you  here.     0  what  a  tender  Providence !  " 

"I  have  taken  my  stand  here,  master,"  returned 
Aspar,  "  day  after  day,  since  I  got  here,  in  hopes  of 
seeing  you.  I  could  not  get  back  to  you  from  Jucun- 
dus's  that  dreadful  morning,  and  so  I  made  my  way 
here.  Your  uncle  sent  for  you  in  my  presence,  but  at 
the  time  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant.  I  was  able  to 
escape." 

"And  now  for  Csecilius,"  said  Agellius. 

Behind  the  olive  tree  a  torrent's  bed  descended; 
the  descent  being  so  easy,  and  yet  so  natural,  that  art 
had  evidently  interfered  with  nature,  yet  concealed 
its  interference.  After  tracing  it  some  yards,  they 
came  to  a  chasm  on  the  opposite  side ;  and,  passing 
through  it,  Agellius  soon  found  himself,  to  his  sur- 
prise, on  a  bleak  open  hill,  to  which  the  huge  moun- 
tain formed  merely  a  sort  oi  fagade.  Its  surface  was 
half  rock,  half  moor,  and  it  was  surrounded  by  preci- 
pices. It  was  such  a  place  as  some  hermit  of  the 
middle  ao^es  might  have  chosen  for  his  solitude.  The 
two  walked  briskly  across  it,  and  at  length  came  to  a 
low,  broad,  yawning  opening,  branching  out  into  se- 
veral passages  whicli,  if  pursued,  would  have  been 
found  to  end  in  nothing.  Aspar,  however,  made 
straight  for  what  appeared  a  dead  wall  of  rock,  iu 
which,  on  his  making  a  signal,  a  door,  skilfully  hidden, 
"was  opened  from  within,  and  was  shut  behind  them  by 

S 


258  CALLISTA  ; 

tlie  porter.  They  now  stood  in  a  gallery  running  into 
the  mountain.  It  was  very  long,  and  a  stream  of  cold 
air  came  along  it.  Aspar  told  him  that  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  it  they  should  find  Caecilius. 

Agellius  was  indeed  in  the  vestibule  of  a  remarkable 
specimen  of  those  caves  which  had  been  used  for  reli- 
gious purposes,  first  by  the  aborigines  of  the  country, 
then  by  the  Phoenician  colonists,  and,  in  the  centuries 
which  immediately  preceded,  for  the  concealment  of 
the  Christians.  The  passage  along  which  they  were 
proceeding  might  itself  be  fitly  called  a  cave,  but 
still  it  was  only  one  of  several  natural  subterraneans, 
of  difi'erent  shapes,  and  opening  into  each  other. 
Some  of  them  lay  along  the  face  of  a  ravine,  from 
which  they  received  light  and  air;  and  here  in  one 
place  there  were  indications  of  a  fortified  front.  Thej 
were  perfectly  dry,  though  the  water  had  at  some 
remote  period  filtered  through  the  roof,  and  had 
formed  pendants  and  pillars  of  semi-transparent  sta- 
lactite, of  great  beauty.  It  was  another  and  singular 
advantage  that  a  particular  spot  in  one  of  the  caverns, 
which  bordered  on  the  ravine,  was  the  focus  of  an 
immense  ear  or  whispering  gallery,  such,  that  what- 
ever took  place  in  the  public  road  in  which  the  ravine 
terminated,  could  be  distinctly  heard  there,  and  thus 
they  were  always  kept  on  guard  against  the  attack  of 
an  enemy,  if  expected.  Had  either  Agellius  or  Aspar 
been  curious  about  such  matter,  the  latter  miglit  have 
pointed  out  the  place,  where  a  Punic  altar  once 
had  been  discovered,  with  a  sort  of  tumulus  of  bones 
of  mice  near  at  hand,  that  animal  coming  into  the  list 
of  victims  in  the  Phoenician  worship. 

But  the  two  Christians  were  engaged,  as  they 
walked  along  the  corridor,  in  other  thoughts,  than  in 
asking  and  answering  questions  about  the  history  of 
the  place  of  refuge  in  which  they  found  themselves. 
We  have  already  remarked  on  the  central  position  of 
Sicca  for  the  purpose  of  missionary  work  and  of  retreat 
in  persecution ;  such  a  dwelling  in  the  rocks  did  but 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     259 

increase  its  advantageousness,  and  in  consequence  at 
this  moment  many  Christians  had  availed  themselves 
of  it.  It  is  an  English  proverb  that  three  removes 
are  as  bad  as  a  fire  ;  and  so  great  were  the  perils  and 
the  hardships  of  flight  in  those  times,  that  it  was  a 
question  in  a  merely  earthly  point  of  view,  whether 
the  risk  of  being  apprehended  at  home  was  not  a  far 
less  evil  than  those  which  were  certain  upon  leav- 
ing it.  There  was  nothing,  then,  ungenerous  in  the 
ecclesiastical  rule,  that  they  alone  should  flee,  in  per- 
secution, who  were  marked  out  for  death,  if  they 
stayed.  The  laity,  private  families,  and  the  priests  on 
whose  ministrations  they  depended,  remained  ;  bishops, 
deacons,  and  what  may  be  called  tlie  staff"  of  the  epi- 
scopate, notaries,  messengers,  seminarists,  and  ascetics, 
would  disappear  from  the  scene  of  persecution. 

Agellius  learned  from  his  slave  that  the  cave  had  been 
known  to  him  from  the  time  he  was  a  boy,  and  that  it 
was  one  of  the  secrets  which  all  who  shared  it  reli- 
giously observed.  Holy  men,  it  seemed,  had  had  in« 
timations  of  the  present  trial  for  several  years  past ; 
and  it  was  the  full  persuasion  of  the  heads  of  the 
Church,  that,  though  it  might  blow  over  for  a  short 
time,  it  would  recur  at  intervals  for  many  years,  end- 
ing in  a  visitation  so  heavy  and  long,  that  the  times 
of  Antichrist  would  seem  to  have  arrived.  However, 
the  impression  upon  their  minds  was  that  then  would 
come  a  millennium,  or,  in  some  sort,  a  reign  of  the  saints 
upon  the  earth.  That,  however,  was  a  date  which 
even  Agellius  himself,  young  as  he  was,  would  not  be 
likely  to  reach ;  indeed,  who  could  expect  to  escape, 
who  might  not  hope  to  gain,  a  martyr's  death,  in  the 
interval,  in  the  series  of  assaults,  between  which  Chris- 
tianity had  to  run  the  gauntlet  ?  Aspar  said,  more- 
over, "that  some  martyrs  did  lie  in  the  chapels  within, 
and  that  various  confessors  had  ended  their  days  there. 
At  the  present  time  there  were  representatives,  there 
collected,  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Churches  of  the  Pro- 
consulate. A  post,  so  to  call  it,  went  between  then;. 
s2 


260  CALLISTA ; 

and  Carthage  every  week,  and  his  friend  and  father, 
the  bishop  of  that  city,  was  especially  busy  in  corre- 
spondence. 

Moreover,  Agellius  learned  that  they  had  many 
partisans,  well-wishers,  and  sympathizers,  about  the 
country,  w^hom  no  one  suspected;  the  families  of 
parents  who  had  conformed  to  the  established  wor- 
ship, nay,  sometimes  the  apostates  themselves,  and 
that  this  was  the  case  in  Sicca  as  well  as  elsewhere. 
Eor  himself,  old  and  ignorant  as  he  was,  the  persecu- 
tion had  proved  to  him  an  education.  He  had  been 
brought  near  great  men,  and  some  whom  he  was  con- 
fident would  be  martyrs  in  the  event.  He  had  learned 
a  great  deal  about  his  religion  which  he  did  not  know 
before,  and  had  drank  in  the  spirit  of  Christianity, 
with  a  fulness  which  he  trusted  would  not  turn  to  his 
ultimate  condemnation.  He  now  too  had  a  conscious- 
ness of  the  size  and  populousness  of  the  Church,  of 
her  diffusion,  of  the  promises  made  to  her,  of  the 
essential  necessity  of  what  seemed  to  be  misfortune, 
of  the  episcopal  regimen,  and  of  the  power  and  solidity 
of  the  see  of  Peter  afar  off  in  Eome,  all  which  know- 
ledge had  made  him  quite  another  being.  We  have 
put  all  this  into  finer  language  than  the  good  old  man 
used  himself,  and  we  have  grouped  it  more  exactly,  but 
this  is  what  his  words  would  come  to,  when  explained. 

Coming  down  to  sublunary  matters,  Aspar  said  the 
cave  was  well  provisioned  ;  they  had  bread,  oil,  figs, 
dried  grapes,  and  wine.  They  had  vessels  and  vest- 
ments for  the  Holy  Sacrifice.  Their  serious  want 
was  a  dearth  of  water  at  that  season,  but  they  relied 
on  Divine  Providence  to  give  them  by  miracle,  if  in  no 
other  way,  a  supply.  The  place  was  piercingly  cold 
too  in  the  winter. 

By  this  time  they  had  gained  the  end  of  the  long 
gallery,  and  passed  through  a  second  apartment,  when 
suddenly  the  sounds  of  the  ecclesiastical  chant  burst 
on  the  ear  of  Agellius.  How  strange,  how  transport- 
ing to  him !  he  was  almost  for  the  first  time  coming 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     26] 

home  to  his  father's  house,  though  he  had  been  a 
Christiau  from  a  chikl,  and  never,  as  he  trusted,  to 
leave  it,  now  that  it  was  found.  He  did  not  know  how 
to  behave  himself,  nor  indeed  where  to  go.  Aspar 
conducted  him  into  the  seats  set  apart  for  the  faithful ; 
he  knelt  down  and  burst  into  tears. 

It  M^as  about  the  third  hour,  the  hour  at  which  the 
Paraclete  originally  descended  upon  the  Apostles,  and 
which,  when  times  of  persecution  w^ere  passed,  was 
appointed  in  the  AYest  for  the  solemn  mass  of  the  day. 
In  that  early  age  indeed  the  time  of  the  solemnity 
was  generally  midnight,  in  order  to  elude  observation ; 
but  even  then  such  an  hour  was  considered  of  tem- 
porary arrangement.  Pope  Telesphorus  is  said  to 
have  prescribed  the  hour,  afterwards  in  use,  as  early 
even  as  the  second  century ;  and  in  a  place  of  such 
quiet  and  security  as  the  cavern  in  which  we  just  now 
find  ourselves,  there  was  no  reason  wdiy  it  should  not 
be  selected.  At  the  lower  end  of  the  chapel  was  a  rail 
extending  across  it  for  the  greater  part  of  its  breadth, 
when  it  turned  up  at  right  angles  on  each  side  towards 
the  altar.  The  enclosure  thus  made  was  the  place 
proper  for  the  faithful,  into  which  Agellius  had  been 
introduced,  and  about  fifty  persons  were  collected 
about  him.  Where  the  two  side-rails  which  ran 
up  the  chapel  ceased,  there  was  a  broad  step ;  and 
upon  it  two  pulpits,  one  on  each  side.  Then  came  a 
second  elevation,  carrying  the  eye  onto  the  extremity 
of  the  upper  end. 

In  the  middle  of  the  wall  at  that  upper  end  is  a 
recess,  occupied  by  a  tomb.  On  the  front  of  it  is 
written  the  name  of  some  glorious  champion  of  the 
fiiith  who  lies  there.  It  is  one  of  the  first  bishops  of 
Sicca,  and  the  inscription  attests  that  he  slept  in  the 
Lord  under  the  Emperor  Antoninus.  Over  the 
sacred  relics  is  a  slab,  and  on  that  slab  the  Divine 
Mysteries  are  now  to  be  celebrated.  At  the  back  is  a 
painting  on  the  wall,  very  similar  to  that  in  Agellius's 
cottage.     The  ever-blessed  immaculate  Mother  of  God 


262  CALLISTA ; 

is  exercising  her  office  as  tlie  advocate  of  sinners, 
standing  hy  the  sacrifice  as  she  stood  at  the  cross 
itself,  and  oiFering  up  and  applying  its  infinite  merits 
and  incommunicable  virtue  in  union  Avitli  priest  and 
people.  So  instinctive  in  the  Christian  mind  is  the 
principle  of  decoration,  as  it  may  be  called,  that  even 
in  times  of  sufi^ering,  and  places  of  banishment,  we  see 
it  brought  into  exercise.  IS'ot  only  is  the  arch  which 
overspans  the  altar  ornamented  with  an  arabesque  pat- 
tern, but  the  roof  or  vault  is  coloured  with  paintings. 
Our  Lord  is  in  the  centre,  with  two  figures  of  Moses 
on  each  side,  on  the  right  unloosing  his  sandals,  on  the 
left  striking  the  rock.  Between  the  centre  figure  and 
the  altar  may  be  seen  the  raising  of  Lazarus ;  in  the 
opposite  partition  the  healing  of  the  paralytic  ;  at  the 
four  angles  are  men  and  women  alternately,  in  the 
attitude  of  prayer. 

At  this  time  the  altar-stone  was  covered  with  a 
rich  crimson  silk,  with  figures  of  St.  Peter  and  St. 
Paul  worked  in  gold  upon  it,  the  gift  of  a  pious  lady 
of  Carthage.  Beyond  the  altar,  but  not  touching  it, 
was  a  cross ;  and  on  one  side  of  the  altar  a  sort  of 
basin  or  j^iscina  cut  in  the  rock,  with  a  linen  cloth 
hanging  up  against  it.  There  were  no  candles  upon 
the  altar  itself,  but  wax  lights  fixed  into  silver 
stands  were  placed  at  intervals  along  the  edge  of  the 
presbytery  or  elevation. 

Tiie  mass  was  in  behalf  of  the  confessors  for  the 
faith  then  in  prison  in  Carthage ;  and  the  sacred 
ministers,  a  few  minutes  after  Agellius's  entrance, 
made  their  appearance.  Tlieir  vestments  already 
varied  somewhat  from  the  ordinary  garments  of  the 
day,  and  bespoke  antiquity;  and,  though  not  so 
simply  szd  generis  as  they  are  now,  they  were  so  far 
special,  that  they  were  never  used  on  any  other  occa- 
sion, but  were  reserved  for  the  sacred  service.  The 
neck  was  bare,  the  amice  being  as  yet  unknown ;  in- 
stead of  the  stole  was  what  was  called  the  orarium,  a 
sort  of  handkerchief  resting  on   the  shoulders,  and 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     263 

falling  down  on  each  side.  The  alb  had  been  the  inner 
garment,  or  camisium,  which  in  civil  nse  was  retained 
at  night  when  the  other  garments  were  thrown  otf, 
and,  as  at  the  present  day,  it  was  confined  round  the 
waist  by  a  zone  or  girdle.  The  maniple  was  a  napkin, 
supplying  the  place  of  a  handkerchief;  and  the 
chasuble  was  an  ample  pcenula,  such  as  was  worn  by 
the  judges,  a  cloke  enveloping  the  whole  person, 
round,  when  spread  out,  with  an,  opening  in  the  centre, 
through  which  the  head  might  pass.  The  deacon's 
dalmatic  was  much  longer  than  it  is  now,  and  the  sub- 
deacon's  tunicle  resembled  the  alb.  All  the  vest;nents 
were  of  the  purest  white. 

The  mass  began  by  the  bishop  giving  his  blessing ; 
and  then  the  Lector,  a  man  of  venerable  age,  taking  the 
roll  called  Lectionarium,  and  proceeding  to  a  pulpit, 
read  the  Prophets  to  the  people,  much  in  the  way 
observed  among  ourselves  still  on  holy  Saturday  and 
the  vigil  of  Pentecost.  These  being  finished,  the 
people  chanted  the  first  verse  of  the  Gloria  Fatri,  after 
which  the  clergy  alternated  with  the  people  the  Kyrie, 
pretty  much  as  the  custom  is  now. 

Here  a  fresh  roll  was  brought  to  the  Lector,  then 
or  afterwards  called  Apostolus,  from  which  he  read  one 
of  the  canonical  epistles.  A  psalm  followed,  which 
was  sung  by  the  people ;  and,  after  this,  the  Lector 
received  the  JEvangeliarmm,  and  read  a  portion  of  the 
Gospel,  at  which  lights  were  lighted,  and  the  people 
stood.  When  he  had  finished,  the  Lector  opened  the 
roll  wide,  and,  turning  round,  presented  it  to  bishop, 
clergy,  and  people  to  kiss. 

Tlie  deacon  then  cried  out,  "Ite  in  pace,catechumeni," 
"  Depart  in  peace,  catechumens;"  and  then  the  kiss 
of  peace  was  passed  round,  and  the  people  began  to  sing 
some  Psalms  or  Hymns.  AVhile  they  were  so  engaged 
the  deacon  received  from  the  acolyte  the  sindon  or 
corporal,  which  was  of  the  length  of  the  altar,  and 
perhaps  of  greater  breadth,  and  spread  it  upon  the 
sacred  table.    Next  was  placed  on  the  sindon  the  ohlaia, 


2G4  CALLISTA ; 

that  is,  the  small  loaves,  according  to  the  number  of 
comiiiunicants,  with  the  paten,  which  was  large,  and 
a  gold  chalice,  duly  prepared.  And  then  the  sindon, 
or  corporal,  was  turned  back  over  them,  to  cover  them 
as  a  pall. 

The  celebrant  then  advanced :  he  stood  at  the 
further  side  of  the  altar,  where  the  candles  are  now, 
with  his  face  to  the  people,  and  then  began  the  holy 
sacrifice.  First  he  incensed  the  ohiatcc,  that  is,  the 
loaves  and  chalice,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  God's 
sovereign  dominion,  and  as  a  token  of  uplifted  prayer  to 
Him  .  Then  the  roll  of  prayers  was  brought  him,  while 
the  deacon  began  what  is  sometimes  called  the  bidding 
prayer,  being  a  catalogue  of  the  various  subjects  for 
which  intercession  is  to  be  made,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Oremiis  diJectissimi,  now  used  on  Good  Friday.  This 
catalogue  included  all  conditions  of  men,  the  conversion 
oi  the  world,  the  exaltation  of  Holy  Church,  the  main- 
tenance of  the  Eoman  empire,  the  due  ripening  and 
gathering  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  other  spiritual 
and  temporal  blessings, — subjects  very  much  the  same 
as  those  which  are  now  called  the  Pope's  intentions. 
The  prayers  ended  with  a  special  reference  to  those 
present,  that  they  might  persevere  in  the  Lord  even 
to  the  end.  And  then  the  priest  began  the  Sursmn 
corda,  and  said  the  Sanctus. 

The  Canon  or  Actio  seems  to  have  run,  in  all  but  a 
few  words,  as  it  does  now,  and  the  solemn  words  of 
consecration  were  said  secretly.  Great  stress  was 
laid  on  the  Lord's  prayer,  which  in  one  sense  termi- 
nated the  function.  It  was  said  aloud  by  the  people, 
and  when  they  said  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,"  they 
beat  their  breasts. 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  Agellius,  assisting  for 
almost  the  first  time  at  this  wonderful  solemnity, 
should  have  noted  every  thing  as  it  occurred  ;  and  we 
must  be  considered  as  giving  our  account  of  it  from 
his  mouth. 

It  needs  not  to  enlarge  on  the  joy  of  the  meeting 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     265 

which  followed  between  Caecilius  and  his  young 
penitent.  "  O  my  fiither,"  he  said,  "I  come  to  thee, 
never  to  leave  thee,  to  be  thy  dntiful  servant,  and  to 
be  trained  by  thee  after  the  pattern  of  Him  who  made 
thee  what  thou  art.  AVonderful  things  have  hap- 
pened ;  Callista  is  in  prison  on  the  charge  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  I  was  in  a  sort  of  prison  myself,  or  what  was 
worse  for  my  soul ;  and  Juba,  my  brother,  in  the 
strangest  of  ways,  has  this  morning  let  me  out.  IShall 
she  not  be  saved,  my  father,  in  God's  own  way,  as 
well  as  I  ?  At  least  we  can  all  pray  for  her ;  but  surely 
we  can  do  more — so  precious  a  soul  must  not  be  left 
to  herself  and  the  world.  If  she  has  the  trials,  she 
may  claim  the  blessings  of  a  Christian.  Is  she  to  go 
back  to  heathenism  ?  Is  she,  alas  !  to  suffer  without 
baptism  ?  Shall  we  not  hazard  death  to  bestow  on 
her  that  grace?" 


266  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"We  iiave  already  had  occasion  to  mention  tliat  tliere 
were  many  secret  well-wishers,  or  at  least  protectors, 
of  Christians,  as  in  the  world  at  large,  so  also  in  Sicca. 
There  were  many  persons  who  had  received  benefits 
from  their  charity,  and-  had  experience  of  the  scan- 
dalous falsehood  of  the  charges  now  circidated 
against  them.  Others  would  feel  a  generosity  towards 
a  cruelly  persecuted  body  ;  others,  iitterly  dead  to  the 
subject  of  religion,  or  rather  believing  all  religions  to 
be  impostures,  would  ngt  allow  it  to  be  assumed  that 
only  one  was  worthy  of  bad  treatment.  Others  liked 
what  they  heard  of  the  religion  itself,  and  thought 
there  was  truth  in  it,  though  it  had  no  claim  to  a 
monopoly  of  it.  Others  felt  it  to  be  true,  but  shrank 
from  the  consequences  of  openly  embracing  it. 
Others,  who  had  apostatized  through  fear  of  the 
executioner,  intended  to  come  back  to  it  at  the  last. 
It  must  be  added  that  in  the  African  Church  confessors 
in  prison  had,  or  were  considered  to  have,  the  remark- 
able privilege  of  gaining  the  public  forgiveness  of  the 
Church  for  those  who  had  lapsed ;  it  was  an  object 
then,  for  all  those  who,  being  in  that  miserable  case, 
wished  some  day  to  be  restored,  to  gain  their  promise 
of  assistance,  or  their  good  will.  To  these  reasons 
was  added,  in  Callista's  case,  the  interest  which  natu- 
rally attached  to  a  woman,  young  and  defenceless. 
The  burning  sun  of  Africa  is  at  the  height  of  its  power. 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     2G7 

The  population  is  prostrated  by  heat,  by  scarcity,  by 
pestilence,  and  by  the  decimation  whicli  their  riot 
brought  upon  them.  They  care  neither  for  Chris- 
tianity, nor  for  any  thiug  else  just  now.  They  lie  in 
tlie  porticoes,  in  the  caverns  under  the  city,  in  the 
baths.  They  are  more  alive  at  niglit.  The  apparitor, 
in  whose  dwelling  Callista  was  lodged,  who  was  himself 
once  a  Christian,  lies  in  the  shade  of  the  great  door- 
way, into  which  his  rooms  opened,  asleep,  or  stupi- 
fied.  Two  men  make  their  appearance  about  two 
hours  before  sunset,  and  demand  admittance  to  Cal- 
lista. The  jailor  asks  if  they  are  not  the  two  Greeks, 
her  brother  and  the  rhetorician,  who  had  visited  her 
before.  The  junior  of  the  strangers  drops  a  purse 
heavy  with  coin  into  his  lap,  and  passes  on  with  his 
companion.  When  the  mind  is  intent  on  great  sub- 
jects or  aims,  heat  and  cold,  hunger  and  thirst,  lose 
their  power  of  enfeebling  it ;  thus  perhaps  we  must 
account  for  the  energy  now  displayed  both  by  the  two 
ecclesiastics  and  by  Callista  herself 

She  too  thought  it  was  the  unwelcome  philoso- 
pher come  again  ;  she  gave  a  s|;art  and  a  cry  of  delight 
when  she  saw  it  vv^as  Csecilius.  "  IMy  father,"  she 
said,  '•  I  want  to  be  a  Cln-istian,  if  I  may  ;  He  came  to 
save  the  lost  sheep.  I  have  learnt  such  things  from 
this  book — let  me  give  it  you  while  I  can.  I  am  not 
long  for  this  world.  Give  me  Him  who  spoke  so 
kindly  to  that  woman.  Take  from  me  my  load  of  sin, 
and  then  1  will  gladly  go."  She  knelt  at  his  feet,  and 
gave  the  roll  of  parchment  into  his  hand. 

"  Eise,  and  sit,"  he  answered ;  "let  us  think  calmly 
over  the  matter." 

"  I  am  ready,"  she  insisted.  "  Deny  me  not  my 
wish  when  time  is  so  urgent, — if  I  may  have  it." 

"Sit  down  calmly,"  he  said  again;  "I  am  not 
refusing  you,  but  I  wish  to  know  about  you."  He 
could  hardly  keep  from  tears,  of  pain,  or  of  joy,  or  of 
both,  when  he  saw  the  great  change  which  trial  had 


268  CALLISTA ; 

wrouglit  in  her.  AVhat  touclied  him  most  was  the 
utter  disappearance  of  that  majesty  of  mien,  wliich 
once  was  hers,  a  gift,  so  beautiful,  so  unsuitable  to  fallen 
man.  There  was  instead  a  frank  humility,  a  simplicity 
without  concealment,  an  unresisting  meekness,  which 
seemed  as  if  it  would  enable  her,  if  trampled  on,  to 
smile  and  to  kiss  the  feet  that  insulted  her.  She  had 
lost  every  vestige  of  what  the  world  worships  under 
the  titles  of  proper  pride  and  self-respect.  Callista 
was  now  living,  not  in  the  thought  of  herself,  but  of 
Another. 

"  God  has  been  very  good  to  you,"  he  continued; 
"but  in  the  volume  you  have  returned  to  me  He  bids 
us  reckon  the  charges.  Can  you  drink  of  His  chalice  ? 
HecoUect  what  is  before  you." 

She  still  continued  kneeling,  with  a  touching  earn- 
estness of  face  and  demeanour,  and  with  her  hands 
crossed  upon  her  breast. 

"  I  have  reckoned,"  she  replied  ;  "  heaven  and  hell: 
I  prefer  heaven." 

"  You  are  on  earth,"  said  C^ecihus,  "  not  in  heaven 
or  hell.  You  must  beaj*the  pangs  of  earth  before  you 
drink  the  blessedness  of  heaven." 

"  He  has  given  me  the  firm  purpose,"  she  said,  "  to 
gain  heaven,  to  escape  hell ;  and  He  will  give  me  too 
the  power." 

"Ah,  Callista!"  he  answered,  in  a  voice  broken  with 
distress,  "  you  know  not  what  you  will  have  to  bear  if 
you  join  yourself  to  Him." 

"  He  has  done  great  things  for  me  already ;  I  am 
wonderfully  changed  ;  I  am  not  what  I  was.  He  will 
do  more  still." 

"Alas,  my  child  !"  said  Csecilius,  "  that  feeble  frame, 
ah !  how  will  it  bear  the  strong  iron,  or  tlie  keen 
flame,  or  the  ruthless  beast  ?  My  child,  what  do  / 
feel,  who  am  free,  thus  handing  you  over  to  be  the 
sport  of  the  evil  one  ?" 

"leather,  I  have  chosen  Him,"  she  answered,  "not 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     269  ~ 

hastily,  but  on  deliberation.  I  believe  Him  most 
absolutely.  Keep  me  not  from  Him  ;  give  Him  to 
me,  if  I  may  ask  it ;  give  me  my  Love." 

Presently  slie  added,  "  I  have  never  forgotten  those 
words  of  yours  since  you  used  them ;  '  Amor  mens 
crucifixus  est.'  " 

She  began  again,  "  I  will  be  a  Christian :  give  me 
my  place  among  them.  Give  me  my  place  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  my  God.  I  wish  to  love  Him. 
I  think  I  can  love  Him.     Make  me  His." 

"  He  has  loved  you  from  eternity,"  said  C?ecilius, 
"and  therefore  you  are  now  beginning  to  love  Him." 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands,  and  remained 
in  profound  meditation.  "  I  am  very  ignorant — very 
sinful,"  she  said  at  length  ;  "  but  one  thing  I  know, 
that  there  is  but  One  to  love  in  the  whole  world,  and 
I  wish  to  love  Him.  I  surrender  myself  to  Him,  if 
He  Avill  take  me  ;  and  He«hall  teach  me  about  Him- 
self." 

"  The  angry  multitude,  their  fierce  voices,  the  brutal 
executioner,  the  prison,  the  torture,  the  slow,  painful 
death."  .  .  .  He  was  speaking,  not  to  her,  but  to 
himself.  She  was  calm,  in  spite  of  her  fervour ;  but 
he  could  not  contain  himself.  His  heart  melted  within 
him  ;  he  felt  like  Abraham,  lifting  up  his  hand  to 
slay  his  child. 

"Time  passes,"  she  said;  "what  may  happen?  you 
may  be  discovered.  But,  perhaps,"  she  added,  sud- 
denly changing  her  tone,  "  it  is  a  matter  of  long  initia- 
tion.    "Woe  is  me!" 

"We  must  gird  ourselves  to  the  work,  Victor,"  he 
said  to  his  deacon  who  was  with  him.  Caecilius  fell 
back,  and  sat  down,  and  Victor  came  forward.  He 
formally  instructed  her  so  far  as  the  circumstances 
allowed.  Nor  for  baptism  only,  but  for  confirmation, 
and  Holy  Eucharist ;  for  Ca?cilius  determined  to  give 
her  all  three  sacraments  at  once. 

It  was  a  sight  for  angels  to  look  down  upon,  and 
they  did  ;  when  the  poor  child,  rich  in  this  world's 


270  CALLISTA ; 

gifi3,  but  poor  in  those  of  eternity,  knelt  down  to 
receive  that  sacred  stream  upon  her  brow,  which  fell 
upon  her,  with  almost  sensible  sweetness,  and  suddenly 
produced  a  serenity  diiferent  in  kind  from  any  thing 
she  had  ever  before  even  had  the  power  of  conceiving. 

The  bishop  gave  confirmation,  and  then  the  viati- 
cum. It  was  her  first  and  last  communion  ;  in  a  few 
days  she  renewed  it,  or  rather  completed  it  under  the 
very  Face  and  Eorm  of  Him  whom  she  now  believed 
without  seeing. 

"Earewell,  my  dearest  of  children,"  said  Csecilius, 
"  till  the  hour  when  we  both  meet  before  the  throne  of 
God.  A  few  sharp  pangs,  which  you  can  count  and 
measure,  and  all  will  be  well.  You  will  be  carried 
through  joyously,  and  like  a  conqueror.  I  know  it. 
You  could  face  the  prospect  before  you  were  a  Chris- 
tian, and  you  will  be  equal  to  the  actual  trial,  now 
that  you  are."  • 

"  jN'ever  fear  me,  father,"  she  said,  in  a  clear  low 
voice.     The  bishop  and  his  deacon  left  the  prison. 

The  sun  had  all  but  set,  when  Csecilius  and  Yictor 
passed  the  city  gate ;  and  it  was  more  than  twilight 
as  they  crossed  the  wild  hills  leading  to  the  precipitous 
pass.  Evil  men  were  not  their  only  peril  in  this 
work  of  charity.  They  were  in  a  place  of  danger  from 
wild  beasts  in  these  lone  wastes,  and,  the  heathen  would 
have  added,  from  bad  spirits.  Bad  spirits  Csecilius 
recognized  too ;  but  he  would  not  have  granted 
that  they  were  perilous.  The  two  went  forward, 
saying  prayers  lowly,  and  singing  psalms,  when  a 
sudden  cry  was  heard,  and  a  strong,  tall  form  rushed 
past  them.  It  might  be  some  robber  of  the  wild,  or 
dangerous  outcast,  or  savage  fanatic,  who  knew  and 
hated  their  religion  ;  however,  while  they  stopped  and 
looked,  he  had  come,  and  he  was  gone.  But  he  came 
again,  more  slowly  ;  and  from  his  remarkable  shape 
Ca^cilius  saw  that  it  was  the  brother  of  Agellius.  He 
said,  "  Juba :"  Juba  started  back,  and  stood  at  a  dis- 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     271 

tance.  Csecilius  held  out  bis  hand,  and  called  him 
on,  again  mentioning  his  name.  The  poor  fellow 
came  nearer:  Ccecilius's  day's  work  was  not  at  an 
end. 

Since  we  last  heard  of  him,  Juba  had  dwelt  in  the 
mountainous  tract  over  which  the  two  Christians  were 
now  passing  ;  roaming  to  and  fro,  or  beating  himself 
in  idle  fuiy  against  the  adamantine  rocks,  and  fighting 
with  the  stern  necessity  of  the  elements.  How  he 
was  sustained,  can  hardly  be  guessed,  unless  the 
impulse,  which  led  him  on  the  first  accession  of  his 
fearful  malady,  to  fly  upon  the  beasts  of  the  desert, 
served  him  here  also.  Eoots  too  and  fruits  were 
scattered  over  the  wild;  and  still  more  so  in  the 
ravines,  wherever  any  quantity  of  soil  had  been  accu- 
mulated. Alas  !  had  the  daylight  lasted,  in  him  too, 
as  well  as  in  Callista.  Csecilius  would  have,  found 
changes,  but  of  a  very  difterent  nature ;  yet  even  in 
him  he  would  have  seen  a  change  for  the  better,  for 
that  old  awful  expression  of  pride  and  defiance  was 
gone.  AVhat  was  the  use  of  parading  a  self-will,  which 
every  moment  of  his  life  belied  ?  His  actions,  his 
words,  his  hands,  his  lips,  his  feet,  his  place  of  abode, 
his  daily  course,  were  in  the  dominion  of  another,  who 
inexorably  ruled  him.  It  was  not  the  gentle  influence 
which  draws  and  persuades,  it  was  not  the  power 
which  can  be  propitiated  by  prayer  ;  it  was  a  tyranny 
which  acted  without  reaction,  energetic  as  mind, 
and  impenetrable  as  matter. 

"Juba,"  said  Crecilius  a  third  time.  The  maniac 
came  nearer,  and  then  again  suddenly  retreated.  He 
stood  at  a  short  distance  from  Csecilius,  as  if  afraid  to 
come  on,  and  cried  out,  tossing  his  hands  wildly, 
"  Away,  black  hypocrite,  come  not  near  me  !  Away, 
hound  of  a  priest,  cross  not  my  path,  lest  I  tear  you 
to  shreds!"  Such  visitations  were  no  novelties  to 
Csecilius  ;  he  raised  his  hand  and  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  then  he  said,  "  Come."  Juba  advanced, 
shrieked,  and  used  some  terrible  words,  and  rushed 


272  CALLISTA  ; 

upon  Csecilius,  as  if  he  would  treat  him  as  he  had 
treated  the  savage  wolf.  "  Come  ?"  he  cried,  "  yes,  I 
come  !"  and  Victor  ran  up,  fearing  his  teeth  would  be 
in  Caecilius's  throat,  if  he  delayed  longer.  The  latter 
stood  his  ground,  quailing  neither  in  eye  nor  in  limb  ; 
he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  a  second  time  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  a  manifest  antagonism  within  him,  the  stricken 
youth,  with  horrid  cries,  came  dancing  after  him. 

Thus  they  proceeded,  with  some  signs  of  insurrection 
from  time  to  time  on  Juba's  part,  but  with  a  successful 
reduction  of  it  as  often,  on  the  part  of  Csecilius,  till 
they  got  to  the  ascent  by  the  olive  trees,  where  careful 
walking  was  necessary.  Then  Caecilius  turned  round, 
and  beckoned  him.  He  came.  He  said,  "Kneel 
down."  He  knelt  down.  Csecilius  put  his  hand  on  his 
head,  saying  to  him,  "  EoUow  me  close,  and  without 
any  disturbance."  The  three  pursued  their  journey, 
and  all  arrived  safe  at  the  cavern.  There  Csecilius 
gave  Juba  in  charge  to  Eomanus,  who  had  been  en- 
trusted with  the  energumens  at  Carthage. 


A   SKETCH   OP   THE   THIIID    CENTURY.  273 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Had  the  imperial  edict  been  acted  on  by  the  magis- 
trates of  Sicca,  without  reference  to  Carthage,  it  is  not 
easy  to  suppose  that  Callista  would  have  persevered  in 
her  refusal  to  commit  the  act  of  idolatry  required  o 
her.  But,  to  speak  of  second  causes,  the  hesitation  of 
her  judges  was  her  salvation.  Once  baptized,  there 
was  no  reason  she  should  desire  any  further  delay  of 
her  conflict.  Come  it  must,  and  come  it  did.  AVhile 
Csecilius  was  placing  her  beyond  danger,  the  rescript 
of  the  Proconsul  had  been  received  at  the  office  of  the 
Duumvirs. 

The  absence  of  the  Proconsul  from  Carthage  had 
been  the  cause  of  the  delay  ;  and  then,  some  investi- 
gation was  needed  to  understand  the  relation  of  Cal- 
lista's  seizure  to  the  riot  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the 
strong  act  of  the  military  on  the  other,  in  quelling  it. 
It  was  thought  that  something  or  other  might  come  to 
light  to  account  for  the  anomalous  and  unaccountable 
position  which  she  had  taken  up.  The  imperial  govern- 
ment considered  it  had  now  a  clear  view  of  her  case, 
and  its  orders  were  distinct  and  peremptory.  Chris- 
tianity was  to  cease  to  be.  It  was  a  subtle  foe, — sap- 
ping the  vitals  of  the  state.  Home  must  perish,  or 
this  illegal  association.  Such  evasions  as  Callista  had 
used,  were  but  instances  of  its  craft.  Its  treason  lay, 
not  in  its  being  Christianity,  but  in  its  not  sacrificing 
to  the  gods  of  Eome.     Callista  was  but  throwing  dust 


274  CALL13TA; 

in  their  eyes.  There  had  been  no  blow  struck  against 
the  treason  in  inland  Africa.  "Women  had  often  been 
the  most  dangerous  of  conspirators.  As  she  was  a 
stranger,  there  was  more  probability  of  her  connexion 
with  secret  societies,  and  also  less  inconvenience  in  her 
execution.  AVhatever  happened,  she  was  to  be  got  rid 
of:  but  first  her  resolution  was  to  be  broken,  for  the 
sake  of  the  example.  Eirst,  let  her  be  brought  before 
t'le  tribunal  and  threatened :  then  thrust  into  the 
Tullianuin  ;  then  put  upon  the  rack,  and  returned  to 
prison ;  then  scorched  over  a  slow  fire ;  last  of  all, 
beheaded,  and  left  for  beasts  of  prey.  She  would 
sML-rifice  ere  the  last  stage  was  reached.  When  she 
had  given  way,  let  her  be  given  up  to  the  gladiators. 
The  message  ended  by  saying  that  the  Proconsular 
Procurator,  who  came  by  the  same  carriages,  would 
preside  at  the  process. 

O  wisdom  of  the  world  !  and  strength  of  the  world ! 
what  are  you  when  matched  beside  the  foolishness  and 
tiie  weakness  of  the  Christian  ?  You  are  great  in 
resources,  manifold  in  methods,  hopeful  in  prospects  ; 
but  one  thing  you  have  not, — and  that  is  peace.  You 
are  always  tumultuous,  restless,  apprehensive.  You 
have  nothing  you  can  rely  upon.  You  have  no  rock 
under  your  feet.  But  the  humblest,  feeblest  Christian 
has  that  which  is  impossible  to  you.  Callista  had  once 
felt  the  misery  of  maladies  akin  to  yours.  She  had 
passed  through  doubt,  anxiety,  perplexity,  despondency, 
passion  ;  but  now  she  was  in  peace.  Now  she  feared 
the  torture  or  the  flame  as  little  as  the  breeze  which 
arose  at  nightfall,  or  the  busy  chatter  of  the  grass- 
hoppers at  the  noonday.  Nay,  rather,  she  did  not 
think  of  torture  and  death  at  all,  but  was  possessed  by 
a  peace  which  bore  her  up,  as  if  bodily,  on  its  mighty 
wings.  For  hours  she  remained  on  her  knees,  after 
Ca?cilius  left  her :  then  she  lay  down  on  her  rushes 
and  slept  her  last  mortal  sleep. 

She  slept  sound ;  she  dreamed.  She  thought  she 
was  no  longer  in  Africa,  but  in  her  own  Greece,  more 


A    SKETCH    OP    THE    THIRD    CENTUllY.  275 

Bunny  and  bright  than  before ;  but  the  inhabitants 
were  gone.  Its  majestic  mountains,  its  rich  plains,  its 
expanse  of  waters,  all  silent :  no  one  to  converse  with, 
no  one  to  sympathize  with.  And,  as  she  wandered  on 
and  wondered,  suddenly  its  face  changed,  and  its  co- 
lours were  illuminated  tenfold  by  a  heavenly  glory, 
and  each  hue  upon  the  scene  was  of  a  beauty  she  had 
never  known,  and  seemed  strangely  to  aifect  all  her 
senses  at  once,  being  fragrance  and  music,  as  well 
as  light.  And  there  came  out  of  the  grottos,  and 
glens,  and  woods,  and  out  of  the  seas,  myriads  of 
bright  images,  whose  forms  she  could  not  discern; 
and  these  came  all  around  her,  and  became  a  sort  of 
scene  or  landscape,  which  she  could  not  have  described 
in  words,  as  if  it  were  a  world  of  spirits,  not  of  matter. 
And  as  she  gazed,  she  thought  she  saw  before  her  a 
well-known  face,  only  glorified.  She,  who  had  been  a 
slave,  now  was  arrayed  more  brilliantly  than  an  orien- 
tal queen ;  aiid  she  looked  at  Callista  with  a  smile  so 
sweet,  that  Callista  felt  she  could  but  dance  to  it. 

And  as  she  looked  more  earnestly,  doubting  whether 
she  should  begin  or  not,  the  face  changed,  and  now 
was  more  marvellous  still.  It  had  an  innocence  in  its 
look,  and  also  a  tenderness,  which  bespoke  b#h  Maid 
and  Mother,  and  so  transported  Callista,  that  she  must 
needs  advance  towards  her,  out  of  love  and  reverence. 
And  the  Lady  seemed  to  make  signs  of  encourage- 
ment :  so  she  began  a  solemn  measure,  unlike  all 
dances  of  earth,  with  hands  and  feet,  serenely  moving 
on  towards  what  she  heard  some  of  them  call  a  great 
action  and  a  glorious  consummation,  though  she  did  not 
know  what  they  meant.  At  length  she  was  fain  to 
sing  as  well  as  dance ;  and  her  M'ords  M^ere,  "  In  the 
Name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost;"  on  which  another  said,  " A  good  beginning 
of  the  sacrifice."  And  when  she  had  come  close  to 
this  gracious  figure,  there  was  a  fresh  change.  The 
face,  the  features  were  the  same ;  but  the  light  of  Di- 
vinity now  seemed  to  beam  through  them,  and  the 
t2 


276  CALLISTA ; 

hair  parted,  and  hung  do^Yn  long  on  each  side  of  the 
forehead ;  and  there  was  a  crown  of  another  fashion 
from  the  Lady's  round  about  it,  made  of  what  looked 
like  thorns.  And  the  palms  of  the  hands  were  spread 
out  as  if  towards  her,  and  there  were  marks  of  wounds 
in  them.  And  the  vestment  had  fallen,  and  there  was 
a  deep  opening  in  the  side.  And  as  she  stood  en- 
tranced before  Him,  and  motionless,  she  felt  a  con- 
sciousness that  her  own  palms  were  pierced  like  His, 
and  her  feet  also.  And  she  looked  round,  and  saw  the 
likeness  of  His  face  and  of  His  wounds  upon  all  that 
company.  And  now  they  were  suddenly  moving  on, 
and  bearing  something,  or  some  one,  heavenwards ; 
and  they  too  began  to  sing,  and  their  words  seemed 
to  be,  "Eejoice  with  Me,  for  I  have  found  My  sheep," 
ever  repeated.  They  went  up  through  an  avenue  or 
long  grotto,  with  torches  of  diamonds,  and  amethysts, 
and  sappliires,  which  lit  up  its  spars  and  made  them 
sparkle.  And  she  tried  to  look,  but  could  not  discover 
what  they  were  carrying,  till  she  heard  a  very  piercing 
cry,  which  awoke  her. 


i  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIED  CENTUET.     277 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  cry  came  from  the  keeper's  wife,  whom  we  have 
described  as  kindly  disposed  to  her.  She  was  a  Lybo- 
Phoenician,  and  spoke  a  broken  Latin ;  but  the  Lan- 
guage of  sympathy  is  universal,  in  spite  of  Babel. 
"  Callista,"  she  exclaimed ;  "girl,  they  have  sent  for 
you  ;  you  are  to  die.  O  frightful !  worse  than  a  run- 
away slave, — the  torture  !  Give  in.  What's  the  harm  ? 
you  are  so  young :  those  terrible  men  with  the  pincers 
and  hot  bars!" 

Callista  sat  up,  and  passed  from  her  vision  to  her 
prison.  She  smiled,  and  said,  "I  am  ready;  I  am 
going  home."  The  woman  looked  almost  frightened, 
and  with  some  shade  of  disgust  and  disappointment. 
She,  as  others,  might  have  thought  it  impossible,  as  it 
was  unaccountable,  that  when  it  came  to  the  point 
Callista  would  hold  out.  "  She's  crazed,"  she  sa'id. 
"  I  am  ready,  mother,"  Callista  said,  and  she  got  up. 
"You  have  been  very  good  to  me,"  she  continued; 
"  I  have  been  saying  many  prayers  for  you  while  my 
prayers  were  of  no  good,  for  then  He  was  not  mine. 
But  now  I  have  espoused  Him,  and  am  going  to  be 
married  to-day,  and  He  will  hear  me."  The  woman 
stared  at  her  stupidly,  as  much  as  to  make  it  evident 
that  if  afterwards  in  her,  as  in  Callista,  a  change  took 
place,  that  change  too,  though  in  so  different  a  soul, 
must  come  of  something  beyond  nature.  She  had 
something  in  her  hand,  and  said,  "  It's  useless  to  give 


278  CALLISTA; 

a  mad  woman  like  her  the  packet  which  my  man  has 
brought  me." 

Callista  took  the  packet,  which  was  directed  to  her, 
and  broke  the  seah  It  was  from  her  brother.  The 
little  roll  of  worn  parchment  opened;  a  dagger  fell 
out.  Some  lines  were  written  on  the  parchment ;  they 
were  dated  Carthage,  and  ran  as  follows : — 

"  Aristo  to  his  dearest  Callista.  I  write  through 
Cornelius.  You  have  not  had  it  in  your  power  to  kill 
me,  but  you  have  taken  away  half  my  life.  Eor  me,  I 
will  cherish  the  other  half,  for  I  love  life  better  than 
death.  But  you  love  annihilation ;  yet,  if  so,  die  not 
like  a  slave.  Die  nobly,  mindful  of  your  country;  I 
seud  you  the  means." 

Caihsta  was  beyond  reflecting  on  any  thing  around 
her,  except  as  in  a  sort  of  dream.  As  common  men 
think  and  speak  of  heaven,  so  she  now  thought  and 
spoke  of  earth.  "  I  wish  Him  to  kill  me,  not  myself," 
she  said.  "  I  am  His  victim.  My  brother !  I  have  no 
brother,  except  One,  who  is  calling  me." 

She  was  cra-ried  to  court,  and  the  examination  fol- 
lowed. We  have  already  given  a  specimen  of  such  a 
process ;  here  it  vrill  be  sufficient  to  make  use  of  two 
documents,  different  in  kind,  as  far  as  they  go,  which 
have  come  down  to  us.  The  first  is  an  alto-relief, 
which  once  was  coloured,  not  first-rate  in  art  or  exe- 
cution, and  of  the  date  of  the  Emperor  Constantius, 
about  a  century  later.  It  was  lately  discovered  in  the 
course  of  excavations  made  at  El  Kaf,  the  modern 
Sicca,  on  the  ruins  of  a  church  or  Eoman  basilica,  for 
the  building  in  question  seems  to  have  served  each 
purpose  successively.'  In  this  sculpture  the  praetorium 
is  represented,  and  the  tribunal  of  the  president  in  it. 
The  tribunal  is  a  high  throne,  with  wings  curving 
round  on  each  side,  making  the  whole  construction 
extend  to  almost  a  semicircle,  and  it  is  ascended  by 
steps  between  the  wings.  The  curule  chair  is  at  the 
top  of  the  steps ;  and  in  the  middle  and  above  it  are 
purple  curtains,  reaching  down  to  the  platform,  drawn 


A  SKETCH  OE  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     279 

back  on  each  side,  and  when  drawn  close  together 
running  behind  the  chair,  and  constituting  what  was 
called  the  secretarium.  On  one  side  of  the  tribunal  is 
a  table  covered  with  carpeting,  and  looking  some- 
thing like  a  modern  ottoman,  only  higher,  and  not 
level  at  top  ;  and  it  has  upon  it  the  Book  of  Mandates, 
the  sign  of  jurisdiction.  The  sword  too  is  represented 
in  the  sculpture,  to  show  a  criminal  case  is  proceeding. 
The  procurator  is  seated  on  the  chair;  he  is  in  purple, 
and  has  a  gold  chain  of  triple  thread.  "We  can  also  dis- 
tinguish his  lawyers,  whetlier  assessors  or  consiliarii ; 
also  his  lictors  and  soldiers.  There,  too,  are  the  no- 
taries in  a  line  below  him  ;  the}^  are  writing  down  the 
judge's  questions  and  the  prisoner's  answers ;  and  one 
of  them  is  turning  round  to  her,  as  if  to  make  her 
speak  more  loudly.  She  herself  is  mounted  up  on  a 
sort  of  platform,  called  catasta,  like  that  on  which 
slaves  were  put  up  for  sale.  Two  soldiers  are  by  her, 
who  appear  to  have  been  dragging  her  forwards.  The 
executioners  are  also  delineated,  naked  to  the  waist, 
with  instruments  of  torture  in  their  hands. 

The  second  document  is  a  fragment  of  the  Acta 
Proconsul  a  j'ia  of  her  Passion.  If,  indeed,  it  could  be 
trusted  to  the  letter,  as  containing  Callista's  answers 
word  for  word,  it  would  have  a  distinctly  sacred  cha- 
racter, in  consequence  of  our  Lord's  words,  "It  shall 
be  given  you  in  that  hour  what  to  speak."  However, 
we  attach  no  such  special  value  to  this  document, 
since  it  comes  to  us  through  heathen  notaries,  who 
may  not  have  been  accurate  reporters ;  not  to  say  that 
before  we  did  so  we  ought  to  look  very  carefully  into 
its  genuineness.  As  it  is,  we  believe  it  to  be  as  true 
as  any  part  of  our  narrative,  and  not  truer.  It  runs 
as  follows : — 

"  Cneius  Messius  Decius  Augustus  II.,  and  Gratus, 
Consuls,  on  the  seventh  before  the  Calends  of  August, 
in  Sicca  Veneria,  a  colony,  in  the  Secretary  at  the 
Tribunal,  Martianus,  procurator,  sitting;   Callista,  a 


280  CALLISTA ; 

maker  of  images,  Tras  brought  up  by  the  Coram enta- 
riensis  on  a  charge  of  Christianity,  and  when  she  was 
placed, 

"  Martiakus,  the  procurator,  said :  This  folly  has 
been  too  long ;  you  have  made  images,  and  now  you 
will  not  worship  them. 

"  Callista  answered :  Eor  I  have  found  ray  true 
Love,  whom  before  I  knew  not. 

"  Mahtianus,  the  procurator,  said  :  Tour  true  love 
is,  I  ween,  your  last  love ;  for  all  were  true  in  their 
time. 

"  Callista  said :  I  worship  my  true  Love,  who  is 
the  Only  True ;  and  lie  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  1 
know  none  but  Him. 

"  Maktiain'US,  the  procurator,  said :  You  will  not 
worship  the  gods,  but  you  are  willing  to  love  their 
sons. 

"  Callista  said  :  He  is  the  True  Son  of  the  True 
God ;  and  I  am  His,  and  He  is  mane. 

"  MARTrAis^TJS,  the  procurator,  said:  Let  alone  your 
loves,  and  swear  by  the  genius  of  the  em.peror. 

"  Callista  said:  I  have  but  one  Lord,  the  King  of 
kings,  the  Euler  of  all. 

"  Maetiakus,  the  procurator,  turned  to  the  lictor 
and  said :  This  folly  is  madness ;  take  her  hand,  put 
incense  in  it,  and  hold  it  over  the  flame. 

"  Callista  said :  You  may  compel  me  by  your 
great  strength,  but  "my  own  true  Lord  and  Love  is 
stronger. 

"  Maetianus,  the  procurator,  said :  You  are  be- 
witched ;  but  we  must  undo  the  spell.  Take  her  to 
the  Lignum  (the  prison  for  criminals). 

"  Callista  said :  He  has  been  there  before  me,  and 
He  will  come  to  me  there. 

"  Maetiai^tjs,  the  procurator,  said:  The  jailor  will 
see  to  that.     Let  her  be  brought  up  to-morrow. 

"  On  the  day  following,  Martianus,  the  procurator, 
sitting  at  the  tribunal,  called  up  Callista.  He  said : 
Honour  our  lord,  and  sacrifice  to  the  gods. 


A  SKETCH  OP  THE  THIED  CENTURY.     281 

"  Callista  said  :  Let  me  alone  ;  I  am  content  with 
my  One  and  Only  Lord. 

"  Maiitiakus,  the  procurator,  said:  What?  did  he 
come  to  you  in  prison,  as  you  hoped  ? 

"  Callista  said  :  He  came  to  me  amid  much  pain; 
and  the  pain  was  pleasant,  for  He  came  in  it. 

"  MAiiTTANus,  tlie  procurator,  said :  Ton  have  got 
worn  and  yellow,  and  he  will  leave  you. 

"  Callista  said ;  He  loves  me  the  more,  for  I  am 
beautiful  when  I  am  black. 

"  Martianus,  the  procurator,  said :  Throw  her  into 
the  Tullianum ;  perhaps  she  will  find  her  god  there 
also. 

"  Then  the  procurator  entered  into  the  Secretary, 
and  drew  the  veil ;  and  dictated  the  sentence  from  the 
tabella.  Then  he  came  out,  and  the  prseco  read  it : — 
Callista,  a  senseless  and  reprobate  woman,  is  hereby 
sentenced  to  be  thrown  into  the  Tullianum ;  then  to 
be  stretched  on  the  equuleus ;  then  to  be  placed  on  a 
slow  fire ;  lastly,  to  be  beheaded,  and  left  to  the  dogs 
and  birds. 

"  Callista  said:  Thanks  to  my  Lord  and  King." 

Here  the  Acta  end ;  and  though  they  seem  to  want 
their  conclusion,  yet  they  supply  nearly  every  thing 
which  is  necessary  for  our  purpose.  The  one  subject 
on  which  a  comment  is  needed,  is  the  state  prison, 
which,  though  so  little  is  said  of  it  in  the  above  Ee- 
port,  is  in  fact  the  real  medium,  as  we  may  call  it, 
for  appreciating  its  information :  a  few  words  will 
SLifiice  for  our  purpose. 

The  state  prison,  then,  was  arranged  on  pretty  much 
oue  and  the  same  plan  through  the  Roman  empire, 
nay,  we  may  say,  throughout  the  ancient  world.  It 
was  commonly  attached  to  the  government  buildings, 
and  consisted  of  two  parts.  The  first  was  the  vesti- 
bule, or  outward  prison,  which  was  a  hall,  approached 
from  the  priietorium,  and  surrounded  by  cells,  opening 
into  it.     The  prisoners,  who  were  confined  in  these 


282  .  CALLISTA ; 

cells,  had  tlie  benefit  of  the  air  and  light,  which  the 
hall  admitted  Such  was  the  place  of  confinement 
allotted  to  St.  Paul  at  Ceesarea,  which  is  said  to  be 
the  "prsetorium  of  Herod."  And  hence,  perhaps,  it 
is  that,  in  the  touching  Passion  of  St.  Perpetua  and 
St.  Felicitas,  St.  Perpetua  tells  us  that,  when  per- 
mitted to  have  her  child,  though  she  was  in  the  inner 
portion,  which  will  next  be  described,  "  suddenly  the 
prison  seemed  to  her  lil^e  the  prsetorium." 

From  the  vestibule  there  was  a  passage  into  the  in- 
terior prison,  called  Eobur  or  Lignum,  from  the  beams 
of  wood,  which  were  the  instruments  of  confinement, 
or  from  the  character  of  its  floor.  It  had  no  window 
or  outlet,  except  this  door,  which,  when  closed,  abso- 
lutely shut  out  light  and  air.  Air,  indeed,  and  cool- 
ness might  be  obtained  by  the  haratlirum,  presently  to 
be  spoken  of,  but  of  what  nature  we  shall  then  see. 
This  apartment,  called  Lignum,  was  the  place  into  which 
St.  Paul  and  St,  Silas  were  cast  at  Philippi,  before  it 
was  known  that  they  were  Eomans.  After  scourging 
them  severely,  the  magistrates,  who  nevertheless  were 
but  the  local. authorities,  and  had  no  proper  jurisdiction 
in  criminal  cases,  "put  them  in  prison,  bidding  the 
jailor  to  keep  them  carefully.  "Who,  on  receiving  such 
a  command,  put  them  in  the  inner  prison,  and  fastened 
them  in  the  lignum."  And  in  the  Acts  of  the  Scilli- 
tane  Martyrs  we  read  of  the  Proconsul  giving  sentence, 
"  Let  them  be  thrown  into  prison;  let  them  be  put 
into  the  Lignum  till  to-morrow." 

The  utter  darkness,  the  heat,  and  the  stench  of  this 
miserable  place,  in  which  the  inmates  were  confined 
day  and  night,  is  often  dwelt  upon  by  the  martyrs 
and  their  biographers.  "  After  a  \q\\^  days,"  says 
St.  Perpetua,  '"  vre  were  taken  to  the  prison,  and  I  was 
frightened,  for  I  never  had  known  such  darkness.  O 
bitter  day !  the  heat  was  excessive  by  reason  of  the 
crowd  there."  In  the  Acts  of  St.  Pionius  and  others 
of  Smyrna  we  read  that  the  jailors  "  shut  them  up  in 
the  inner  part  of  the  prison,  so  that,  bereaved  of  all 


A  SKETCn  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     283 

comfort  and  liglit,  they  were  forced  to  sustain  extreme 
torment,  from  the  darkness  and  stencli  of  the  prison." 
And,  in  like  manner,  other  martyrs  of  Africa,  about 
the  time  of  St.  Cyprian's  martyrdom,  that  is,  eight  or 
ten  years  later  than  the  date  of  this  story,  say,  "  We 
were  not  frightened  at  the  foul  darkness  of  that  place  ; 
for  soon  that  murky  prison  was  radiant  with  the 
brightness  of  the  Spirit.  What  days,  what  nights  we 
passed  there,  no  words  can  describe.  The  torments 
of  that  prison  no  statement  can  equal." 

Yet  there  was  a  place  of  confinement  even  worse 
than  this.  In  the  floor  of  the  inner  prison  was  a  sort 
of  trapdoor,  or  hole,  opening  into  the  laratliriom,  or 
pit,  and  called,  from  the  original  prison  at  Eome,  the 
Tnllianum.  Sometimes  prisoners  were  confined  here; 
sometimes  dispatched  by  being  cast  headlong  into  it 
through  the  opening.  It  was  into  this  pit  at  Eome 
that  St.  Chrysanthus  was  cast ;  and  there,  and  pro- 
bably in  other  cities,  it  was  nothing  short  of  the  public 
cesspool. 

It  may  be  noticed  that  the  Prophet  Jeremias  seems 
to  have  had  personal  acquaintance  with  Vestibule,  llo- 
bur,  and  Barathrum.  We  read  in  one  place  of  his 
being  shut  up  in  the  "atrium,"  that  is,  the  vestibule, 
"of  the  prison,  which  was  in  the  house  of  the  king." 
At  another  time  he  is  in  the  "  ergastulum,"  which 
would  seem  to  be  the  inner  prison.  Lastly,  his  ene- 
mies let  him  down  by  ropes  into  the  lacus  or  pit,  in 
which  "there  was  no  water,  but  mud." 

As  to  Callista,  then,  after  the  first  day's  examina- 
tion, she  was  thrown  for  nearly  twenty-four  hours  into 
the  stiflmg  Eobur,  or  inner  prison.  After  the  sentence, 
on  the  second  day,  she  was  let  down,  as  the  com- 
mencement of  her  punishment,  that  is,  of  her  martyr- 
dom, into  the  loathsome  Barathrum,  lacus,  or  pit, 
called  Tuliianum,  there  to  lie  for  another  twenty  hours 
before  she  was  brought  out  to  the  equuleus  or  rack. 


28^  OALHSta; 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Callista  had  sighed  for  the  bright  and  clear  atmo- 
sphere of  Greece,  and  she  was  thro\Yn  into  the  Eobur, 
and  plunged  into  the  Barathrum  of  Sicca.  But  in 
reality,  though  she  called  it  Greece,  she  \Yas  panting 
after  a  better  country  and  a  more  lasting  home ;  and 
this  country  and  home  she  had  found.  IShe  was  now 
setting  out  for  it. 

It  was,  indeed,  no  slight  marvel  that  she  was  not 
already  there.  She  had  been  lowered  into  that  pit  of 
death  before  noon  on  the  day  of  her  second  examination, 
and,  excepting  some  unwholesome  bread  and  water, 
according  to  the  custom  of  the  prison,  had  had  no 
food  since  she  came  into  the  custody  of  the  commen- 
tariensis  the  day  before.  The  order  came  from  the 
magistrates  to  bring  her  out  earlier  in  the  morning 
than  was  intended,  or  the  prison  might  have  really 
effected  what  Calphurnius  had  purposed  to  pretend. 
"When  the  apparitors  attempted  to  raise  her,  she 
neither  spoke  nor  moved,  nor  could  well  be  seen. 
"Black  as  Orcus,"  said  oneof  the  fellows,  "anothertorch 
there  !  I  can't  see  where  she  nestles."  "  There  she  is, 
like  a  bundle  of  clothes,"  said  another.  "  Madam  gets 
up  late  this  morning,"  said  a  third.  "  She's  used  to 
softer  couches,"  said  a  fourth.  "Ha!  ha!  'tis  a 
spoiler  of  beaut}^,  this  hole,"  said  a  fifth.  "  She  is  the 
demon  of  stubbornness,  and  must  be  crushed,"  said 
the  jailor;  "  she  likes  it,  or  she  would  not  choose  it." 


A    SKETCH    OP    THE    THIRD    CEITTUIIT.  285 

"  The  plague  take  the  witch,"  said  another ;  "  we  shall 
have  better  seasons  when  a  few  like  her  are  ferreted 
out." 

The  J  got  her  out  like  a  corpse,  and  put  her  on  the 
ground  outside  the  prison.  When  she  still  did  not 
move,  two  of  them  took  her  between  them  on  their 
shoulders  and  arms,  and  began  to  move  forward,  the 
instrument  of  torture  preceding  her.  The  fresh  air  of 
the  morning  revived  her ;  she  soon  sat  up.  She  seemed 
to  drink  in  life  again,  and  became  conscious.  "  O 
beautiful  Li^ht!"  she  whisnered,  "  0  lovely  Light,  my 
liirht  and  my  life!  O  my  Light  and  my  Life  receive 
me  !'  Gradually  she  became  fully  alive  to  all  that  was 
going  on.  She  was  going  to  death,  and  that  rather 
than  deny  Him  who  had  bought  her  by  His  own  death. 
He  had  suffered  for  her,  and  she  was  to  suffer  for 
Him.  He  had  been  racked  on  the  Cross,  she  too  was 
to  have  her  limbs  dislocated  after  His  pattern.  She 
scarcely  rested  on  the  men's  shoulders  ;  and  they  vowed 
afterwards  that  they  thought  she  was  going  to  fly 
away,  vile  witch  as  she  was. 

"The  witch,  the  witch!"  the  mob  screamed  out, 
for  she  had  now  come  to  the  place  of  her  conflict. 
"  We'll  pay  you  off  for  blight  and  pestilence !  Where's 
our  bread,  where' s  the  maize  and  barley,  where  are 
the  grapes?"  And  they  uttered  fierce  yells  of  exe- 
cration, and  seemed  disposed  to  break  through  the  Hne 
of  apparitors,  and  to  tear  her  to  pieces.  Yet,  after  all, 
it  was  not  a  very  hearty  uproar,  but  got  up  for  the 
occasion.  The  populace  had  spent  their  force,  not  to 
say  their  lives,  in  the  riot  in  which  she  was  appre- 
hended. The  priests  and  priestesses  of  the  temples 
had  sent  the  poor  wretches  and  paid  them. 

The  place  of  execution  was  on  the  north-east  of  the 
city,  outside  the  walls,  and  towards  the  mountain.  It 
was  where  slaves  were  buried,  and  it  was  as  hideous  as 
such  spots  usually  were.  The  neighbourhood  was 
wild,  open  to  the  beasts  of  prey,  who  at  night  used  to 
descend  and  feast  upon  the  corpses.    As  Callista  ap- 


286  CALLTSTA  ; 

proaclied  to  the  scene  of  her  suffering,  the  expression 
of  her  countenance  had  so  altered  that  a  friend  would 
scarce  have  known  it.  There  was  a  tenderness  in  it 
and  a  modesty  which  never  had  been  there  in  that 
old  time.  Her  cheek  had  upon  it  a  blush,  as  when 
the  rising  sun  suddenly  touches  some  grey  rock  or 
tower ;  yet  it  was  white  and  glistening  too,  so  much 
so  that  others  might  have  said  it  was  like  silver.  Her 
eyes  were  larger  than  they  had  been,  and  gazed  sted- 
fastly,  as  if  at  what  the  multitude  did  not  see.  Her 
lips  spoke  of  sweet  peace  and  deep  composure.  "When 
at  length  she  came  close  upon  the  rabble,  who  had 
been  screaming  and  yelling  so  fiercel_7,  men,  women, 
and  boys  suddenly  held  their  peace.  It  was  first  from 
curiosity,  then  from  amazement,  then  from  awe.  At 
length  a  fear  smote  through  them,  and  a  strange 
pity  and  reverence.  They  almost  seemed  inclined  to 
w^orship  what  stirred  them  so  much,  they  knew  not 
how;  a  new  idea  had  visited  those  poor  ignorant 
souls. 

A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  put  the  rack  into  working 
order.  She  was  laid  down  upon  its  board  in  her  poor 
bedimmed  tunic,  which  once  flashed  so  bright  in  the  sun, 
— she  who  had  been  ever  so  delicate  in  her  apparel.  Her 
wrists  and  ankles  were  seized,  extended,  fastened  to 
the  moveable  blocks  at  the  extremities  of  the  plank. 
She  spoke  her  last  word,  "Eor  Thee,  my  Lord  and 
Love,  for  Tliee !  .  .  Accept  me,  O  my  Love,  upon  this 
bed  of  pain !  .  .  And  come  to  me,  0  my  Love,  make 
haste  and  come  !"  The  men  turned  round  tlie  wheels 
rapidly  to  and  fro ;  the  joints  were  drawn  out  of  their 
sockets,  and  then  snapped  in  again.  She  had  fainted 
They  waited  for  her  coming-to  ;  they  still  waited ; 
they  got  impatient. 

"  Dash  some  water  on  her,"  said  one.  "  Spit  in  her 
face,  and  it  will  do,"  said  a  second.  "Prick  her  with 
your  spike,"  said  a  third.  "  Hold  your  wild  talk," 
said  a  fourth;  "she's  gone  to  the  shades."  They 
gathered  round,  and  looked  at  her  attentively.     They 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTURY. 


287 


could  not  bring  her  back.  So  it  was :  she  had  gone 
to  her  Lord  and  her  Love. 

"  Lay  her  out  for  the  wolves  and  vultures,"  said 
the  cornicularius,  and  he  was  going  to  appoint  guards 
till  nightfall,  when  up  came  the  stationarii  and  Cal- 
phurnius  in  high  wrath. 

"You  dogs !"  he  cried,  "what  trick  have  you  been 
practising  against  the  soldiers  of  Eome  ?"  However, 
expostulation  and  reproach  were  bootless ;  nor  would 
it  answer  here  to  go  into  the  quarrel  which  ensued  over 
the  dead  body.  The  magistrates,  having  got  scent  of 
Calphurnius's  scheme,  had  outwitted  the  tribune  by 
assigning  an  earlier  hour  than  was  usual  for  the  execu- 
tion. Life  could  not  be  recalled ;  nor  did  the  soldiers 
of  course  dare  publicly  to  disobey  the  Proconsul's 
order  for  the  exposure  of  the  corpse.  All  that  could 
be  done,  they  did.  They  took  her  down  with  rude 
reverence  from  the  rack,  and  placed  her  on  the  sand ; 
and  then  they  set  guards  to  keep  off  the  rabble,  and 
to  avail  themselves  of  any  opportunity  which  might 
occur  to  show  consideration  towards  her. 


288  CALLISTi 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  sun  of  Africa  has  passed  over  the  heavens,  but 
has  not  dared  with  one  of  his  fierce  rays  to  profane 
the  sacred  relics  which  lie  out  before  him.  The  mists 
of  evening  rise  up,  and  the  heavy  dews  fall,  but  they 
neither  bring  the  poison  of  decay  to  that  gracious 
body,  nor  receive  it  thence.  The  beasts  of  the  wild 
are  roaming  and  roaring  at  a  distance,  or  nigli  at 
hand :  not  any  one  of  them  presumes  to  touch  her. 
No  vultures  may  promise  themselves  a  morning  meal 
from  such  a  victim,  as  they  watch  through  the  night 
upon  the  high  crags  which  overlook  her.  The  stars 
have  come  out  on  high,  and,  they  too,  look  down  upon 
Callista,  as  if  they  were  funeral  lights  in  her  honour. 
Next  the  moon  rises  up  to  see  what  has  been  going  on, 
and  edges  the  black  hangings  of  the  night  with  silver. 
Yet  mourning  and  decay  are  but  of  formal  observ- 
ance, when  a  brave  champion  has  died  for  her  God. 
The  world  of  ghosts  has  as  little  power  over  such  a 
one  as  the  world  of  nature.  No  evil  spirit  has  aught 
to  say  to  her,  who  has  'gone  in  her  baptismal  white 
before  the  Throne.  No  penal  fire  shall  be  her  robe, 
who  has  been  carried  in  her  bright  flammeum  to 
the  Bridal  Chamber  of  the  Lamb.  A  divine  odour 
fills  the  air,  issuing  from  that  senseless,  motion- 
less, broken  frame.  A  circle  of  light  gleams  round 
her  brow,  and  even  when  the  daylight  comes  again, 
it  there  is  faintly  seen.  Her  features  have  reas- 
sumed  their  former  majesty,  but  with  an  expression 
of  childlike  innocence  and  heavenly  peace.  The 
thongs  have  drawn  blood  at  the  wrists  and  ankles, 
which  has  run  and  soaked  into  the  sand;  but 
angels  received  the  body  from  the  soldiers  when  they 


A  SKETCH  OF  THE  THIRD  CENTUHT.     289 

took  it  off  the  rack,  and  it  lies,  sweetly  and  modestly 
composed,  upon  the  ground. 

Passers-by  stand  still  and  gaze ;  idlers  gather 
round.  The  report  spreads  in  Sicca  tliat  neither  sun 
by  day,  nor  moon  by  night,  nor  moist  atmosphere,  nor 
beast  of  prey,  has  power  over  the  wonderful  corpse. 
Nay,  that  no  one  can  come  near  it  without  falling 
under  some  strange  influence,  which  makes  them  calm 
and  grave,  expels  bad  passions,  and  allays  commotion 
of  mind.  Many  come  again  and  again,  for  the 
mysterious  and  soothing  effect  she  exerts  upon  them. 
They  cannot  talk  freely  about  it  to  each  other,  and 
are  seized  with  a  sacred  fear  when  they  attempt  to  do 
so.  Those  who  have  merely  heard  their  report  without 
seeing  her,  say  that  these  men  have  been  in  a  grove 
of  the  Eumenides,  or  have  suddenly  encountered  the 
wolf.  The  popular  sensation  continues  and  extends ; 
some  say  it  is  magical,  others  that  it  is  from  the  great 
gods.  Day  sinks  again  into  evening,  evening  becomes 
night;  the  night  wears  out,  and  morning  is  coming  again. 

It  begins  to  dawn:  a  glimmer  is  faintly  spread 
abroad,  and,  mixing  with  the  dark,  makes  twilight, 
which  gradually  brightens,  and  the  outlines  of  nature 
rise  dimly  out  of  the  night.  Gradually  the  sacred 
body  comes  to  sight ;  and,  as  the  light  grows  stronger 
around  it,  gradually  too  the  forms  of  five  men  emerge, 
who  had  not  been  there  the  night  before.  One  is  in 
front ;  the  rest  behind  with  a  sort  of  bier  or  litter. 
They  stand  on  the  mountain  side  of  her,  and  must 
have  come  from  the  country.  It  has  been  a  bold 
enterprise  theirs,  to  expose  themselves  to  the  nightly 
beasts,  and  now  again  to  the  rabble  and  the  soldiers. 
The  soldiers  are  at  some  little  distance,  silent  and 
watchful ;  such  of  the  rabble  as  have  passed  the  night 
there  have  had  some  superstitious  object  in  their  stay. 
They  have  thought  to  get  portions  of  the  flesh  for 
magical  purposes ;  a  finger,  or  a  tooth,  or  some  hair, 
or  a  portion  of  her  tunic,  or  the  blood-stained  rope 
which  was  twisted  round  her  wrist  and  ankle. 

V 


290  CALLISTA  ; 

As  the  light  makes  her  at  length  quite  visible  to  the 
youth  oil  the  other  side,  who  stands  by  himself  with 
clasped  hands  and  tearful  eyes,  he  shrinks  from  the 
sight.  He  turns  round  to  his  companions  who  are 
provided  with  a  large  winding-sheet  or  pall,  and  with 
the  help  of  one  of  them,  to  the  surprise  of  the  popu- 
lace, he  spreads  it  all  over  the  body.  And  having 
done  this,  he  stands  again  trembling,  just  for  a  few 
seconds,  absorbed  in  his  meditations,  praying  and  weep- 
ing, and  nerving  himself  for  what  is  to  follow.  Ah,  poor 
Agellius!  you  have  not  risen  yet  to  the  pitch  of  triumph; 
and  other  thoughts  must  be  let  to  range  through  your 
breast,  other  emotions  must  spend  themselves,  before 
you  are  prepared  simply  to  rejoice,  exult,  and  glory  in 
the  lifeless  form  which  lies  before  you.  You  are  upon  a 
brave  work,  but  your  heart  is  torn  while  you  set  hand 
to  it,  and  you  linger  before  you  begin. 

It  was  in  the  pride  of  her  earthly  beauty,  and  the 
full  vigour  and  elevation  of  her  mind,  that  he  last  had 
seen  her.  It  seemed  an  age  since  that  morning,  as  if  a 
chasm  ran  between  the  now  and  the  then,  when  she 
so  fascinated  him  with  her  presence,  and  so  majesti- 
cally rebuked  him  for  bowing  to  that  fascination. 
Yet  on  his  memory  every  incident  of  that  interview 
was  fixed,  and  was  indelible.  O  why  should  the  great 
Creator  shatter  one  of  His  most  admirable  works! 
If  the  order  of  the  sun  and  stars  is  adorable,  if  the 
laws  by  which  earth  and  sea  are  kept  together  mark 
the  Hand  of  supreme  AVisdom  and  Power,  how  much 
more  perfection  of  beauty  is  manifested  in  man  !  And 
of  human  nature  itself  here  was  the  supereminent 
crown,  a  soul  full  of  gifts,  full  of  gTcatness,  full  of 
intellect,  placed  in  an  outward  form,  equally  sur- 
passing in  its  kind,  and  still  more  surpassingly  ex- 
cellent from  its  intimate  union  and  subordination 
to  the  soul,  so  as  almost  to  be  its  simple  expression  ; 
yet  this  choicest,  rarest  specimen  of  Almighty  skill, 
the  Almighty  had  pitilessly  shattered,  in  order  that  it 
might  inherit   a  higher,   an   eternal  perfection.     O 


A  SKETCH  OE  THE  THIRD  CENTURY.     291 

mystery  of  mysteries,  that  heaAx^n  should  not  be  pos- 
sibly obtained  without  such  a  grinding  down  and 
breaking  up  of  our  original  nature  !  O  mysterious, 
that  principle  in  us,  whatever  it  is,  and  however  it 
came  there,  which  is  so  antagonist  to  God,  which  has 
so  spoilt  what  seems  so  good,  that  all  must  be  undone, 
and  must  begin  anew!  "An  enemy  hath  done  this;" 
and,  knowing  as  much  as  this,  and  no  more,  we  must 
leave  the  awful  mystery  to  that  day  Avhen  ail  things 
shall  be  made  light. 

Agellius  has  not  been  idle  while  these  thoughts 
pass  through  his  mind.  He  has  stooped  down  and 
scooped  up  such  portions  of  the  sand  as  are  moistened 
with  her  blood,  and  has  committed  them  to  a  small 
bag  which  he  has  taken  out  of  his  bosom.  Then 
without  delay,  looking  round  to  liis  attendants,  and 
signing  to  them,  with  two  of  the  party  he  resolutely 
crossed  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  corpse,  covering 
it  from  attack,  while  his  two  assistants  who  were  left 
proceeded  quickly  to  lay  hold  of  it.  They  had  raised 
it,  laid  it  on  the  bier,  and  were  setting  off  by  an  un- 
usual track  across  the  waste,  while  Agellius,  Aspar, 
and  the  third  are  grappling  with  some  ruffians  who  had 
rushed  upon  them,  l^ew,  hoAvever,  were  there  as  yet 
to  take  part  against  them,  but  their  cries  of  alarm 
were  bringing  others  up,  and  the  Christians  were  in 
growing  danger  of  being  worsted  and  carried  off,  when 
suddenly  the  soldiers  interfered.  Under  pretence 
of  keeping  the  peace,  they  laid  about  them  Avith  their 
heaA'^"  maces  ;  and  so  it  Avas,  the  blows  took  effect  on 
the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the  rabble,  with  but  slight 
injury  to  Agellius  and  his  companions.  The  latter 
took  instant  advantage  of  the  diversion,  and  A\anished 
out  of  view  by  the  same  misleading  track  which  their 
comrades  had  already  chosen.  If  they,  or  the  party 
who  had  preceded  them^  came  within  the  range  of 
sight  of  any  goatherds  upon  the  mountains,  Ave  must 
suppose  that  angels  held  those  heathen  eyes  that  they 
should  not  recognize  them. 
u2 


292  CALLISTA ; 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  bier  and  its  bearers,  and  its  protectors,  have 
reached  the  cave  in  safety,  and  pace  down  the  gallery, 
proceeded  by  its  Christian  hosts,  v^ith  lighted  tapers, 
singing  psalms.  Thej  place  the  sacred  body  before 
the  altar,  and  the  mass  begins.  St.  Cyprian  celebrates, 
and  after  the  Gospel,  he  adds  a  few  words  of  his 
own. 

He  said  that  they  were  engaged  in  praising,  bless- 
ing, and  exalting  the  adorable  Grace  of  God,  which 
had  snatched  so  marvellonsly  a  brand  ont  of  the 
furnace.  Benedicamus  Patrem  et  Eilium  cum  Sancto 
Spiritu.  Benedictus,  et  laudabilis,  et  gloriosus,  et 
supereialtatus  in  ssecula.  Every  day  doing  marvels, 
and  exceeding  all  that  seemed  possible  in  power  and  love, 
by  new  and  still  newer  manifestations.  A  Greek  had 
come  to  Africa  to  embellish  the  shrines  of  heathenism, 
to  minister  to  the  usurpation  of  the  devil,  and  to 
strengthen  the  old  ties  which  connected  genius  with 
sin;  and  she  had  suddenly  found  salvation.  But  yes- 
terday a  poor  child  of  earth,  and  to-day  an  inhabitant 
of  the  heavens.  But  yesterday  without  God  and 
without  hope  ;  and  to-day  a  martyr  with  a  green  palm 
and  golden  vestment,  worshipping  before  the  Throne. 
But  yesterday  the  slave  of  Satan,  and  spending  herself 
on  the  vanities  of  time ;  and  to-day  drinking  of  the 
never-cloying  torrents  of  bliss  everlasting.  But  yes- 
terday one  of  a  number,  a  grain  of  a  vast  heap,  des- 
tined indiscriminately  for  the  flame ;   to-day  one  of 


A   SKETCH   OE   THE   THIKD   CENTTJBT.  293 

the  elect  souls,  written  from  eternity  in  the  book  ot 
life,  and  predestined  to  glory.  But  yesterday,  liungry 
and  thirsty,  and  restless  for  some  object  worthy  an 
immortal  spirit ;  to-day  enjoying  the  inefiable  ecstasy 
of  the  Marriage  Feast  and  the  espousals  of  Emmanuel. 
But  yesterday  tossed  about  on  a  sea  of  opinion  ;  and 
to-day  entranced  in  the  vision  of  infallible  truth  and 
immutable  sanctity.  And  yet  what  was  she  but  only 
one  instance  out  of  ten  thousand  of  the  Almighty  and 
All-manifold  Grace  of  the  [Redeemer  ?  And  who  was 
there  of  all  of  them,  there  assembled,  from  the  most 
heroic  down  to  the  humblest  beginner,  from  the  autho- 
ritative preacher  down  to  the  slave  or  peasant,  but  was 
equally,  though  in  his  own  way,  a  miracle  of  mercy, 
and  a  vessel,  once  of  wrath,  if  now  of  glory  ?  Ojiiy 
might  he  and  all  wlio  heard  him  persevere  as  they  had 
begun,  so  that  if  (as  was  so  probable)  their  trial  was 
to  be  like  hers,  its  issue  might  be  like  hers  also. 

St.  Cyprian  ceased ;  and,  w^hile  the  deacon  opened 
the  sindon  for  the  offertory,  the  faithful  took  up  alter- 
nately the  verses  of  a  hymn,  which  we  here  insert  in  a 
most  unworthy  translation: — 


*'  The  number  of  Thine  own  complete 
Sum  up  and  make  an  end ; 
Sift  clean  the  chaff,  and  house  the  wheat, 
And  then,  O  Lord,  descend. 

"  Descend,  and  solve  by  that  descent, 
This  mystery  of  lite; 
Where  good  and  ill,  together  blent, 
Wage  an  undying  strife. 

*'  For  rivers  twain  are  gushing  still, 
And  pour  a  mingled  flood  ; 
Good  in  the  very  depths  of  ill ; 
III  in  the  heart  of  good. 

"The  last  are  first, — the  first  are  last, — 
As  angel  eyes  behold  : 
These  from  the  i-heep-cote  sternly  cast,— 
Those  welcomed  to  the  fold. 


294  CALLISTA  ; 

*'  No  Christian  home,  no  pastor's  eye, 
No  [)reachtT's  vocal  zeal, 
Moved  Thy  dear  martyr  to  defy 
The  prison  and  the  wheel. 

"  Forth  from  the  heathen  ranks  she  stept, 
The  forfeit  throne  to  claim 
Of  Christian  souls  who  had  not  kept 
Their  birthright  and  their  name. 

"  Grace  formed  her  out  of  sinful  dust ; 
She  knelt,  a  soul  deiiled; 
She  rose  in  all  the  faith  and  trust 
And  sweetness  of  a  child. 

"  And  in  the  freslmess  of  that  love 

She  preached  by  word  and  deed, — 
The  mysteries  of  the  world  above, — 
Her  new-found,  glorious  creed. 

"  And  running,  in  a  little  hour, 
Of  life  the  course  complete. 
She  reached  the  throne  of  endless  power 
And  sits  at  Jesu's  feet. 

"  Her  spirit  there,  her  body  here, 
Make  one  the,  earth  and  sky  ; 
We  use  her  name,— we  touch  her  bier  :- 
^^'e  know  her  God  is  niyrh." 


The  last  sentiment  of  the  yet  unfinisbed  hymn  was 
receiving  an  answer  while  they  sung  it.  Juba  bad 
been  brought  into  the  chapel  in  the  hands  of  hi« 
brother  and  the  exorcists.  8inee  he  had  been  under 
their  care,  he  had  been,  on  the  whole,  calm  and  man- 
ageable, with  intervals  of  wild  tempest  and  mad  terror. 
He  spoke,  at  times,  of  an  awful  incubus  weigliing  on 
his  chest,  which  he  could  not  throw  ofl",  and  said  he 
hoped  that  they  Avould  not  think  all  the  blasphemies 
he  uttered  were  his  own.  On  this  occasion,  he  strug- 
gled most  violently,  and  shook  with  distress ;  and,  as 
tliey  brought  him  towards  the  sacred  relics,  a  thick, 
cold  dew  stood  upon  his  brow,  and  his  features  shrunk 
and  collapsed.  He  held  back,  and  exerted  himself 
with  all  his  might  to  escape,  foaming  at  the  mouth, 


A  SKETCH  or  THE  THIRD  CENTUET.     295 

and  from  time  to  time  uttering  loud  shrieks  and  hor- 
rible words,  which  disturbed,  though  they  could  not 
interrupt,  the  hymn.  His  bearers  persevered :  they 
Drought  him  close  to  Callista,  and  made  him  touch  her 
feet  with  his  hands.  Immediately  he  screamed  fear- 
fully, and  was  sent  up  into  the  air  with  such  force 
that  he  seemed  discharged  from  some  engine  of  war : 
then  he  fell  back  upon  the  earth  apparently  lifeless. 

The  long  prayer  was  ended ;  the  Sursiim  corda  was 
uttered.  Juba  raised  himself  from  the  ground.  When 
the  words  of  consecration  had  been  said,  he  adored 
with  the  faithful.  After  the  mass,  his  attendants 
came  to  him  ;  he  was  quite  changed :  he  was  quiet, 
harmless,  and  silent ;  the  evil  spirit  had  gone  out ;  but 
he  was  an  idiot. 

This  wonderful  deliverance  was  but  the  beginning  of 
the  miracles  which  followed  the  martyrdom  of  St. 
Callista.  It  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  resurrection 
of  the  Church  at  Sicca.  In  not  many  months  Decius 
was  killed,  and  the  persecution  ceased  there.  Castus 
was  appointed  bishop,  and  numbers  began  to  pour  into 
tlie  fold.  The  lapsed  asked  for  peace,  or  at  least  such 
blessings  as  they  could  have.  Heathens  sought  to  be 
received.  When  asked  for  their  reason,  they  could  only 
say  that  Callista' s  history  and  death  had  aifected  them 
with  constraining  force,  and  that  tliey  could  not  help  fol- 
lowing her  steps.  Increasing  in  boldness,  as  well  as  num- 
bers, the  Christians  cowed  both  magistrates  and  mob. 
The  spirit  of  the  populace  had  been  already  broken ; 
and  the  continual  change  of  masters,  and  measures  with 
them,  in  the  imperial  government,  inflicted  a  chronic 
timidity  on  the  magistracy.  A  handsome  church  was 
soon  built,  to  which  Callista's  body  was  brought,  and 
which  remained  till  the  time  of  the  Diocletian  per- 
secution. 

Juba  attach<ed  himself  to  this  church  ;  and,  though 
he  could  not  be  taught  even  to  sweep  the  sacred  pave- 
ment, still  he  never  was  troublesome  or  mischievous. 
He  continued  in  this  state  for  about  ten  years.     At 


296  CALLISTA,    &C. 

the  end  of  that  time,  one  morning,  after  mass,  which  he 
always  attended  in  the  church  porch,  he  suddenly  went 
to  the  bishop,  and  asked  for  baptism.  He  said  that 
Callista  had  appeared  to  him,  and  had  restored  to  him 
his  mind.  On  conversing  with  him,  the  holy  Castus 
found  that  his  recovery  was  beyond  all  doubt :  and  not 
knowing  how  long  his  lucid  state  would  last,  he  had 
no  hesitation,  with  such  instruction  as  the  time  ad- 
mitted, to  administer  the  holy  rite,  as  he  wished. 
After  receiving  it,  he  proceeded  to  the  tomb,  within 
which  lay  St.  Callista,  and  remained  on  his  knees  before 
his  benefactress  till  nightfall.  Not  even  then  was  he 
disposed  to  rise;  and  so  he  was  left  there  for  the 
night.  Next  morning  he  was  found  still  in  the  atti- 
tude of  prayer,  but  lifeless.  He  had  been  taken  away 
in  his  baptismal  robe. 

As  to  Agellius,  if  he  be  the  bishop  of  that  name  who 
suffered  at  Sicca  in  his  old  age,  in  the  persecution  of 
Diocletian,  we  are  possessed  in  this  circumstance  of 
a  most  interesting  fact  to  terminate  his  history  withal. 
What  makes  this  more  likely  is,  that  this  bishop  is 
recorded  to  have  removed  the  body  of  St.  Callista 
from  its  original  position,  and  placed  it  under  the  * 
high  altar,  at  which  he  said  mass  daily.  After  his  own. 
martyrdom,  St.  Agellius  was  placed  under  the  high 
altar  also. 


THE   END. 


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